if" 


^'.  i.t  '^A  '^'^''  ^ '  ^-^^y 


PRINCETON    .   NEW  JERSEY 


PRESENTED  BY 

Dr.  Earl  A.  Pope 

Manson  Professor  of  Bible 

Lafayette  College 

The  Earl  A.  Pope  Collection 

BR  1700  .F74  1885 
Frost,  John,  1800-1859. 
Cyclopedia  of  eminent 
Christians  of  various 


CYCLOPEDIA 


EMINENT  CHEISTIANS 


OP 


VARIOUS   DEN-QMINATIOFS. 


BY 


JOHN    FROST,    LL.B. 


▲UTHOB   OV    "PICTORIAL   HISTORr   OF   THE    UNITED    STATES,"    WtO. 


JOHN    B.     ALDEN,     PUBLISHER, 

393    PEARL    STREET, 

NEW  YORK. 

1885. 


Re-Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress. 


PREFACE. 


Among  the  various  collections  of  lives  which  enrich 
our  literature,  I  do  not  recollect  to  have  seen  any  one 
which  was  formed  upon  the  plan  which  I  proposed  to 
myself  in  undertaking  the  present  work.  It  was  my 
purpose  to  make  a  collection  of  the  lives  of  men  who 
were  eminent  for  learning,  science,  ability,  or  philan- 
thropy ;  men  who  had  attracted  attention  by  their  emi- 
nence in  some  one  of  the  paths  which  lead  to  high 
distinction  among  mankind;  and  who,  at  the  same 
time,  were  remarkable  for  true  Christian  piety ;  admit- 
ted on  all  hands  to  be  good  as  well  as  great.  If 
such  a  book  shall  only  establish  the  fact  that  real 
piety  is  not  incompatible  with  worldly  eminence,  it 
will  have  accomplishe]  a  good  work. 

It  will  be  seen  that  with  some  observance  of  cinouu- 
logical  order,  I  have  commenced  as  far  back  as  the 
14tli  century,  and  have  necessarily  included  a  great 
variety  of  distinguished  personages,  alt  of  whom  were 
considered  eminent  Christians  m  their  tune.  But  in 
judging  of  the  individual  merits  of  persons  who  lived 
in  the  middle  ages,  it  would  not  be  just  to  refer  them  to 
the  high  standard  of  Christian  character  of  the  present 
xlay      We  should  consider  the  circumstances  in  wliicb 


PREFACE. 


the  early  Christians  were  pktced;  the  darkness  and 
general  spirit  of  the  age  in  which  they  lived.  That 
which  would  be  considered  a  relentless  and  blood-thirstv 
spirit  of  persecution  in  our  times,  would  have  been  re- 
garded as  only  a  stern  adherence  to  religious  duty  in 
the  fourteenth,  fifteenth  or  sixteenth  centuries,  while  on 
the  other  hand  the  liberal  indulgence  to  opinion  which 
prevails  now  would  have  been  considered  in  those  times 
a  culpable  indifference  to  religious  truth.  1  state  this 
point  distinctly  in  explanation  of  my  choice  of  several 
characters  who  were  doubtless  led  mto  error  by  the 
mistaken  spirit  of  the  age  in  which  they  lived. 

In  n?aking  the  collection,  I  have  had  recourse  to  a 
great  variety  of  authorities.  In  some  few  instances  the 
lives  are  drawn  from  the  works  of  persons  of  the  same 
religious  denomination  as  the  subject,  as  in  the  case  of 
Elizabeth  Fry.  But  in  most  cases  I  have  relied  upon 
(vriters  who  could  hardly  be  biased  in  their  views  of 
character  by  sectarian  feelings.  Many  of  the  lives  are 
condensed  from  voluminous  biographies ;  others  are 
taken  with  little  change  from  such  collections  as  that 
of  the  Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge^ 
and  ^^The  Georgian  Era." 

I  have  sought  for  the  lives  of  Christians  of  various 
denominations ;  but  I  am  aware  that  there  have  been 
many  very  eminent  Christians  whose  lives  will  not  be 
found  in  this  volume.  Its  limits  forbid  the  idea  of 
completeness.  These  specimens,  however,  will  serve 
to  incul(;ate  the  great  moral  and  religious  lessons  which 
I  had  in  view ;  and  I  trust  that  my  sincere  desire  to 
render  a  service  to  society  by  assembling  together  many 
brilliant  examples  of  Christian  virtue,  will  plead  my 
excuse  for  any  shortcomings  which  may  be  found  m 
the  execution  of  my  design. 


CONTENTS. 


PASl 

JOHN   WICLIF 9 

JOHN   HUSS 14 

JEROME    OF   PRAGUE 26 

GIROLAMO   SAVONAROLA 30 

JOHN   CRAIG 36 

DESIDERIUS    ERASMUS 41 

SIE   THOMAS   MORE 49 

MARTIN   LUTHER 58 

PHILIP    MELANCTHON 68 

THOMAS   CRANMER 77 

HUGH   LATIMER 86 

NICHOLAS   RIDLEY 92 

ISABELLA   OF    CASTILE 96 

ADMIRAL   COLTGNI ]04 

FREDERIC,    ELECTOR   OF   SAXONY 113 

JOHN   HOOPER : 119 

JOHN   CALVIN 124 

THEODORE   BEZA 129 

JOHN   ROBINSON •. MS 

JOHN   WINTHROP   OF    MASSACHUSETTS 138 

ROGER  WILLIAMS 142 

JOHN   WINTHROP   OF   CONNECTICUT 146 

CATHARINE   OF   ARRAGON 147 

KING    EDWARD   THE   SIXTH „ 149 

LADY  JANE   GREY 152 

PIERRE   RAMUS 164 

a2  6 


6  CONTENTS. 

PAOK 

JOHN    MILTON 168 

ULRIC   ZAVINGLE 176 

SIR   HENRY   VANE 183 

JOHN   KNOX 193 

JACOB   BOHME 200 

HUGO   GROTIUS 208 

JOHN   ELIOT 213 

GEORGE    FOX 218 

INCREASE    MATHER 221 

COTTON  MATHER 224 

JOHN   BUNYAN 226 

RICHARD   BAXTER 232 

ANNE    HUTCHINSON 242 

JONATHAN   EDWARDS 245 

JONATHAN   MAYHEW 247 

TIMOTHY   DWIGHT 250 

ROBERT   BOYLE 253 

GUSTAVUS   ADOLPHUS 257 

BLAISE   PASCAL 267 

JEREMY  TAYLOR 275 

SIR   MATTHEW   HALE 283 

ISAAC   BARROW , 295 

JOHN   RAY 298 

ARgHBISHOP   FENELON , 304 

WILLIAxM    PENN 312 

SAMUEL  JOHNSON 323 

NICHOLAS   COUNT   ZINZENDORF 332 

DAVID   BRAINERD 33C 

JOHN   WESLEY 344 

GEORGE   AVHITEFIELD 351 

CHRISTIAN   SCHWARTZ 304 

JOSEPH   ADDISON 373 

ELIZABETH    ROWE 378 

GRANVILLE   SHARP 379 

HUGH   BLAIR 880 

COLONEL   GARDINER 382 

ARCHBISHOP   TENISON 386 


CONTENTS.  7 


PAGE 


WILLIAM   LAW 339 

JOHN   HOWARD 39O 

WILLIAM   COWPER 396 

JAMES   HERVEY , 4O3 

CHARLES   WESLEY 4O6 

HUMPHREY   PRIDEAUX 414 

EDWARD   YOUNG 415 

ISAAC   WATTS 419 

CHARLES   CHAUNCY 423 

CHARLES   CHAUNCY 426 

EZRA   STILES 429 

PHILIP  DODDRIDGE 43I 

HANNAH   MORE 439 

DAVID   ZIESBERGER 444 

SIR   ISAAC    NEWTON 453 

MATTHEW   HENRY 457 

HENRY   SCOUGAL 453 

JAMES   SAURIN 460 

JONAS    HANWAY 4G2 

SIR   WILLIAM   JONES 47I 

WILLIAM   ROMAINE 477 

JOSEPH    BUTLER 480 

RALPH   CUDWORTH 482 

JOHN   FLAVEL 485 

EDMUND   CALAMY 48(j 

EDMUND   CALAMY 487 

ROBERT   BARCLAY 489 

SAMUEL   CLARKE 491 

JOHN   OWEN 600 

ROBERT   LOWTH  602 

CLADIUS   BUCHANAN 605 

ANNE   HASSELTINE   JUDSON 612 

JOHN    WILLIAM    FLETCHER 519 

ANNE   LETITIA   BARBAULD 621 

TIEGINALD    HEBER 624 

WILLIAM   CAREY 627 

DR.    MARSHMAN 686 


g  CONTENTS. 

PAOI 

ROBERT   MORRISON 546 

GEORGE   LORD   LYTTELTON 563 

BEILBY   PORTEUS 66" 

HENRY   MARTYN 569 

FELIX   NEFF 571 

WILLIAM   WILBERFORCE  574 

JOHN   FREDERICK   OBERLIN 582 

HENRY   KIRKE    WHITE 589 

THOMAS  CHALMERS 594 

ELIZABETH    FRY 598 

ROBERT   HALL 608 

THOMAS   CLARKSON 621 

DR.    THOMAS   ARNOLD 623 

THOMAS   WILSON 627 

ROBERT   ROBINSON 630 

DANIEL    NEAL 637 

LEGH   RICHMOND 339 

JAMES   MONTGOMERY 640 

JANE   TAYLOR 645 

ELIZABETH   CARTER 646 

WILLIAM   ALLEN 648 

JOSEPH  LANCASTER 652 

JOSEPH  JOHN   GURNEY 656 

THOMAS   FOW^ELL   BUXTON 659 

SAMUEL  TAYLOR   COLERIDGE 6M 

LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

JOHN  WICKLIFFE 9 

JOHN  HUBS 14 

THOMAS  CRANMER , 77 

HUGH  LATIMER. 86 

JOHN  CALVIN 124 

JOHN  KNOX 193 

PENN'S  TREATY  WITH  THE  INDIANS 312 

DEATH  OF  THE  REV.  JOHN  WESLEY 344 


JOITX  WICKFIFFE. 


LIVES 


OF 


Eminent  Christians  and  Preachers. 


JOHN   WICLIP 

BOUT  six  miles  distant  from  Richmond,  in 
Yorkshire,  England,  is  the  small  village  of 
Wiclif.     It  had  long  been  the  residence  of 
a  family  of  the  same  name,  when  it  gave 
birth,  about  the  year  1324,  to  its  most  dis- 
%^  tinguished  native,  commonly  called  the  first 
English  Reformer.      The  family,  says  a  late 
writer,     possessed    wealth     and     consequence. 
Though  the  name  of  the  reformer  is  not  to  be 
found  in  the  extant  records  of  the  household,  it  is 
probable   that  he  belonged    to    it.       Perhaps   the 
spirit  of  the    times,    and    zeal  for   the    established 
hierarchy,   may   have   led   it    to    disclaim    the    only 
person   who  has  saved  its    name    from    absolute    ob- 
scurity. 

John  Wiclif  was  first  admitted  at  Queen's  Col- 
lege, Oxford,  but  speedily  removed  to  the  more  ancient 
establishment  of  Merton.  Here  he  made  great  proficiency  in 
the  scholastic  learning  then  in  vogue,  and  the  direction  in  which 
his  talents  were  turned  is  indicated  by  the  title  which  he  early 
acquired  of  the  Evangelic  or  Gospel  Doctor. 

In  1356  he  put  forth  a  tract  on  the  Last  Age  of  the  Church, 
remarkable  not  only  from  its  ascribing  the  plague  and  othei 


10  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

calamities  which  then  afflicted  the  world  to  God's  indignation  at 
the  sinfulness  of  man ;  but  also  from  its  venturing  pi-edictions 
of  future  calamities,  all  which  were  to  be  included  in  the 
fourteenth  century,  which  was  to  be  the  last  century  of  the 
world's  existence.  V^e  may  pass  with  slight  notice  a  species  of 
infatuation  of  which  we  have  examples  in  our  own  times,  but  in 
his  manner  of  treating  this  subject,  we  discover  the  principles 
of  the  reformer.  Among  the  causes  of  those  fearful  calamities, 
among  the  sins  which  had  awakened  the  wrath  of  the  Almighty, 
he  feared  not  to  give  the  foremost  place  to  the  vices  of  the 
clergy,  the  rapacity  and  sensuality  of  priests,  who  perverted 
and  corrupted  the  people.  In  this  singular  work,  of  which  the 
foundation  was  laid  in  superstition,  Wiclif  first  developed  that 
free  and  bold  spirit  which  dared  to  avow,  without  compromise, 
what  it  felt  with  force  and  tputh. 

We  next  find  Wiclif  engaged  in  his  memorable  contest  with 
the  mendicant  orders,  (begging  friars.)  Introduced  into  Eng- 
land in  1221,  these  friars,  by  the  rigid  morality  and  discipline 
which  they  professed,  had  at  first  rapidly  gained  the  confidence 
of  the  people,  and  were  supplanting  the  ancient  ecclesiastical 
establishments,  when,  success  causing  a  relaxation  of  their  zeal, 
they  became  as  obnoxious  to  the  charge  of  luxury  and  sensuality 
as  their  predecessors ;  so  that,  by  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  the  contest  was  conducted  with  greater  success  on  the 
part  of  the  original  orders  of  clergy ;  and  some  of  the  leading 
prelates  of  the  day  took  part  in  it  against  the  mendicants. 
Oxford  became  the  field  for  the  closest  struggle,  and  the  rising 
talents  of  Wiclif  were  warmly  engaged  in  it,  as  early  as  the  year 
1360,  and  he  persisted  to  the  end  of  life  in  pursuing  these  beg- 
ging friars  with  the  keenest  argument  and  the  bitterest  invective. 
Similar  to  this  was  his  opposition  to  the  claim  of  Urban  V.  to  the 
sovereignty  of  England,  founded  on  the  submission  rendered  by 
John  to  Innocent  III.  A  zealous  advocate  of  papacy  challenged 
Wiclif  to  refute  a  book  which  he  had  put  forth  to  vindicate  the 
claim  of  Urban.  Wiclif  complied  ;  and  his  work,  though  rude 
in  style,  proves  that  even  at  that  earl}^  day  he  had  imbibed 
Strong  opposition  to  the  errors  of  Popery. 

Seven  years  after,  Wiclif  was  raised  to  the  Theological  Chair 
at  Oxford.  At  that  time,  the  custom  of  filling  the  English 
Denefices  with  foreignei-s,  Avho  did   not   reside  in  Eiiglan<],  had 


JOHN  WICLIF.  \l 

increased  to  a  shameful  extent,  and  though  vigon  usly  opposed 
by  the  kings  and  the  people,  it  was  supported  by  the  whole 
influence  of  the  church.  In  1374  an  embassy,  of  which  Wiclif 
was  a  member,  was  sent  to  Avignon  to  remonstrate  on  the  sub- 
ject with  Gregory  XI.  The  embassy,  so  far  as  its  direct  object 
was  concerned,  ended  in  nothing  ;  but  it  enabled  Wiclif  to  obtain 
a  close  insight  into  the  springs  which  moved  the  world's  eccle- 
siastical machinery.  He  returned  to  England,  with  a  deter- 
mination to  resist  Popery  with  more  zeal  than  he  had  ever 
done;  and  was  rewarded  by  the  prebend  of  Aust,  and  soon 
afterwards  by  the  rectory  of  Lutterworth.  He  speedily  com- 
menced his  eiforts  for  reformation ;  and,  as  might  be  expected, 
soon  drew  upon  himself  the  suspicions  of  the  hierarchy.  A 
convocation,  held  February  3,  1377,  summoned  him  to  appear 
at  St.  Paul's,  and  clear  himself  from  a  charge  of  heresy.  Hap- 
pily for  Wiclif,  he  was  at  this  time  protected  by  the  powerful 
John  of  Gaunt,  duke  of  Lancaster.  That  noblemen  appeared 
with  Wiclif  at  the  council ;  a  tumult  ensued  ;  the  duke  and  the 
Bishop  of  London  engaged  in  a  disgraceful  altercation  ;  and  the 
meeting  dispersed  in  disorder.  The  process  against  Wiclif  was, 
however,  suspended. 

In  the  same  year,  Wiclif  published  a  treatise,  defei.ding  the 
parliament  in  their  opposition  to  the  pope's  interference  in  the 
fiscal  affairs  of  England.  In  this  tract  he  examines  the  founda- 
tion of  spiritual  pretensions,  declares  the  Bible  to  be  the  final 
appeal  in  all  ecclesiastical  disputes ;  and  boldly  contrasts  the 
character  of  Christ's  vicar  with  that  of  Christ  himself.  Four 
bulls  were  immediately  issued  against  him.  "  His  holiness  had 
been  informed  that  John  Wiclif,  rector  of  the  cliurch  of  Lutter- 
worth, and  professor  of  the  sacred  page,  had  broken  forth  into 
a  detestable  insanity,  and  had  dared  to  assert  opinions  utterly 
subversive  of  the  church,  and  savouring  of  the  perversit}"  and 
ignorance  of  Marsilius  of  Padua  and  John  of  Gaudano,  both 
of  accursed  memory;"  Edward  III.  was  exhorted  to  co-operate 
with  the  spiritual  authorities  for  the  suppression  of  this  monstrous 
evil ;  yet  so  slow  were  the  movements  of  the  secular  arm,  tliat 
the  University  of  Oxford,  to  which  one  of  the  bulls  had  been 
sent,  raised  a  question  whether  it  should  be  received  or  in- 
dignantly rejected.  In  the  following  year,  however,  Wiclif  was 
brought  before  the  papal  commissioners  at  Lambeth.     At  the 


12  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

moment  when  these  men  were  preparmg  to  gratify  their  revenge 
upon  him,  a  sedition  of  the  people  in  his  favour  interrupted 
their  proceedings ;  and  before  this  could  be  appeased,  a  mes- 
sage, prohibiting  any  sentence  against  him,  was  received  from 
the  queen-mother.  The  reformer  became  more  fearless.  The 
Bible  was  the  basis  of  his  system;  and  every  pretension  or 
tenet  repugnant  to  it  he  rejected.  He  denounced  auricular 
confession ;  declared  pardons  and  indulgences  to  be  devices  for 
augmenting  the  power  and  wealth  of  the  clergy,  at  the  expense 
of  public  morality  ;  he  paid  no  regard  to  excommunications  and 
mterdicts;  he  pronounced  confirmation  an  unnecessary  cere- 
mony, invented  to  aggrandize  episcopal  dignity;  he  reprobated 
the  celibacy  of  the  clergy  and  monastic  vows ;  he  maintained 
that  bishops  and  priests,  being  of  the  same  order,  were  improperly 
distinguished;  and  lastly;  that  the  property  claimed  by  the 
clergy  was  merely  enjoyed  by  them  in  trust  for  the  benefit  of 
the  people,  and  was  disposable  at  the  discretion  of  the  secular 
government. 

Although  Wiclif,  in  advocating  these  opinions,  drew  upon 
himself  the  hatred  of  the  hierarchy,  yet  he  was  protected  by  a 
powerful  party  both  at  court  and  among  the  people.  But  in 
1381  he  advanced  a  step  further.  In  a  treatise  respecting  the 
eucharist,  he  confuted  the  popular  belief  on  that  important 
tenet,  and  explained  its  nature,  in  a  manner  similar  to  that  of 
Lutlier  in  the  sixteenth  century ;  while  admitting  a  real  pre- 
sence, he  denied  transubstantiation.  Here  was  ground  for  a 
new.  clamour;  and  Wiclif  soon  ascertained  that  the  strength 
of  his  opponents  was  increasing  through  the  desertions  of  his 
friends.  Truth  was  still  on  his  side ;  but  the  subject  being 
obscure,  and  consequently  regarded  with  much  prejudice,  was 
more  closely  connected  with  the  feelings  of  his  hearers  than 
almost  any  other.  It  afi'ected  not  merely  their  respect  for  a 
corrupt  hierarchy,  but  their  faith  in  what  they  had  been  taught 
to  consider  essential  to  salvation.  Those  who  had  formerly 
listened  to  him  with  delight,  trembled  when  they  heard  him 
attacking  the  ground-work  of  their  belief;  his  noble  patrons 
perceived  the  impolicy  of  his  new  course;  and  John  of  Lan- 
caster especially  commanded  him  to  desist.  Wiclif  was  unawed. 
In  1382  he  was  summoned  before  a  synod  held  by  Courtney, 
and,  after  undergoing  an  examination,  was  commanded  to  answer 


JOHN  WICLIF.  13 

before  the  Convocation  of  Oxford,  for  certain  erroneoas  opi- 
nions, especially  that  relating  to  the  eucharist.  Wiclif  prepared 
to  defend  them.  The  Duke  of  Lancaster  forsook  him.  The 
undaunted  reformer,  though  now  alone,  published  two  confessions 
of  faith,  in  which  he  asserted  his  adherence  to  his  former  belief. 
Six  adversaries  entered  the  lists  against  him,  and  at  length  the 
judges  sentenced  him  to  perpetual  banishment  from  the  Uni- 
versity of  Oxford.  He  peacefully  retired  to  his  rectory  at 
Lutterworth,  and  spent  the  two  remaining  years  of  his  life  in 
theological  studies,  and  the  discharge  of  his  pastoral  duties. 
The  mildness  of  his  sentence — so  inconsistent  with  the  spirit  of 
that  age — must  astonish  us;  but  whether  the  praise  of  modera- 
tion be  due  to  the  prelates'  forbearing  to  press  their  enmity,  or 
to  the  state's  refusing  to  sanction  their  vengeance,  is  not  known. 

Wiclif's  doctrines  were  so  far  in  advance  of  his  age  that  we 
cannot  but  wonder  how  they  escaped  immediate  extinction. 
With  the  people,  however,  they  were  ever  cherished ;  nor  was 
the  author  neglectful  of  the  means  proper  for  their  dissemina- 
tion. By  translating  the  Bible,  he  increased  the  means  of 
ascertaining  their  truth,  or  at  least  of  detecting  the  falsehood 
of  his  adversaries'  system ;  and  by  his  numerous  missionaries, 
called  Poor  Priests,  sent  forth  to  propagate  truth,  he  acquired 
much  influence  for  good.  In  after  years,  the  Lollards  embraced 
and  perpetuated  his  doctrines,  and  by  their  undeviating  hostility 
to  the  abuses  of  Rome  prepared  the  path  for  the  Reformation. 
At  an  early  period  his  works  found  their  way  into  Bohemia, 
and  kindled  there  the  first  spark  of  resistance  to  spiritual  des- 
potism. Huss  proclaimed  his  adherence  to  Wiclif's  principles, 
and  his  respect  for  his  person ;  praying  in  public  that  ''  on  his 
departure  from  this  life,  he  might  be  received  into  those  regions 
whither  the  soul  of  Wiclif  had  gone,  since  he  doubted  not  that 
he  was  a  good  and  holy  man,  and  worthy  of  r  heavenly  habi- 
tation." 

Thirty  years  after  Wiclif's  burial,  his  grave  was  opened  by 
order  of  the  council  of  Constance  ;  the  sacred  relics  were  turn 
from  their  sleeping  place;  and  the  ashes  of  the  great  reformer 
were  strewn  in  a  little  brook  which  runs  into  the  Avon. 


14  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 


JOHN   HUSS. 


■'^' 


fj;  T  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  the  writings  of 
^^■;  Wiclif  should  have  given  the  first  impulse 
to  the  reformation  in  the  distant  kingdom  of 
i5\^"'  Bohemia,  where  they  were  instrumental  in 
^f-  converting  a  man  not  less  eminent  than  the 
'^  great  English  reformer  himself.  This  was  the 
celebrated  John  Huss.  Huss  was  born  of  poor 
parents,  in  the  small  town  of  Hussinetz,  in  the 
kino^dom  of  Bohemia,  in  1373.  These  kind  and 
simple  peasants  spared  no  effort  to  secure  the  ad- 
vantaixes  of  a  o-ood  education  for  their  son.  He 
finished  his  studie?  r.t  Praschatitz,  a  town  not  far 
from  his  birth-place ,  ind  thence  proceeded  with  his 
mother,  then  a  widow,  to  the  University  of  Prague, 
where  he  took  the  degrees  of  Bachelor  and  Master  of 
Arts,  (1396.) 
x\mong  the  few  incidents  preserved  respecting  the  first  years 
of  Huss,  the  following  is  characteristic.  One  winter's  evening, 
when  reading  by  the  fire  the  Life  of  St.  Lawrence,  his  imagina- 
tion kindling  at  the  narrative  of  the  martyr's  sufferings,  he 
thrust  his  own  hand  into  the  flames.  Being  withheld  by  one 
of  his  fellow  students  from  continuing  it  there,  and  then  ques- 
tioned as  to  his  design,  he  replied,  "I  was  only  trying  what 
part  of  the  tortures  of  this  holy  man  I  might  be  capable  of 
enduring." 

During  the  time  that  he  was  a  student,  having  become  ser- 
vitor of  a  professor,  tc  whose  library  he  thereby  had  access,  he 
had  an  opportunity  of  acquiring  a  degree  of  theological  informa- 
tion, which  for  that  age  was  remarkable.  Two  years  after 
taking  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts,  (1398,)  he  delivered  public 
theological  and  philosophical  lectures.  In  1402,  the  office  of 
Bohemian  preacher  in  the  Bethlehem  chapel  at  Prague,  which 


JOHh  HUSS. 


JOHN   HUSS.  5 

was  established-  by  a  private  foundation,  was  conferred  upon 
him.  Here  he  began  to  acquire  influence  over  the  people, 
with  whom,  as  Avell  as  with  the  students,  his  sermons  were  very 
popular;  and  being  soon  after  made  confessor  to  the  queen, 
Sophia  of  Bavaria,  wife  of  King  Wenceslaus,  he  thus  gained 
access  to  the  court. 

Neither  birth,  education,  nor  manner  of  life  had  prepared 
this  mild,  modest,  and  even  timid  man  for  the  bold  steps  he  so 
speedily  adopted.  When  a  British  student  first  showed  him  the 
propositions  of  Wiclif,  he  was  alarmed  at  their  boldness,  and 
beo;o;ed  him  to  throw  such  dano-erous  writings  into  the  river 
Yet  the  scandalous  struggle  going  on  between  the  two  pontiffs 
at  this  time,  with  all  the  license  and  corruption  of  the  clergy, 
made  so  painful  an  impression  on  him  as  to  disturb  him  even  in 
his  sleep.  But  his  daily  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  his 
intercourse  with  the  learned  Jerome  of  Prague,  as  well  as  the 
crying  abuse  of  indulgences,  gradually  opened  his  eyes ;  and 
resuming  the  study  of  the  writings  of  Wiclif,  his  early  opi- 
nions gave  way  to  reason,  and  his  heart  overflowed  with  fer- 
vent approbation.  In  answer  to  his  fellow-collegians,  who  de- 
tected him  reading  these  books,  and  reproachfully  remarked, 
that,  by  a  decree  of  the  Council,  the  author  had  been  sent  to 
hell,  he  replied,  "  I  only  wish  that  my  soul  may  reach  the  place 
where  that  excellent  Briton  now  dwells." 

Various  circumstances  favoured  in  Bohemia  the  free  move 
ment  of  men's  minds  at  this  time.  The  marriage  of  Richard  II. 
of  England  to  Anne,  sister  of  the  King  of  Bohemia,  had  greatlj 
increased  the  intercourse  between  the  two  countries,  and  the 
University  of  Prague  was  attracting  the  learned  from  all  parts 
of  Europe ;  and  King  Wenceslaus,  resenting  his  degradation 
from  the  imperial  dignity,  tolerated  a  movement  distasteful  to 
his  adversaries,  while  Queen  Sophia  lent  it  her  aid  from  sincere 
conviction. 

As  the  mind  of  the  reformer  became  more  thoroughly  en- 
lightened, he  assumed  a  more  independent  front,  and  by  preach- 
ing and  writing  attacked  the  highest  clergy,  denouncing  their 
scandalous  lives,  and  the  gross  corruptions  of  the  churcli  they 
were  abetting.  All  classes  crowded  to  hear  him.  His  fame 
spread  through  the  empire,  and  attracted  both  friends  and  foes 
to  Bohemia. 


16  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  OHRISTIANS. 

This  powerful  movement  became  public  in  1407,  the  very 
year  of  the  Council  of  Pisa.  The  Archbishop  of  Prague,  Sbinko, 
a  few  months  before  the  opening  of  the  council,  had  anathema- 
tized Huss  for  exhorting  the  people  to  disregard  the  authority 
of  Pope  Gregory  XII.,  and  had  become  reconciled  to  him  whon 
forced  himself  to  recognise  the  authority  of  Alexander  Y.  Bat 
in  1409,  this  latter  pontiff  published  a  bull  against  Huss's  doc- 
trines and  those  of  Wiclif,  forbidding  them  to  be  preached  in 
any  place  whatever ;  and  the  Archbishop  Sbinko  was  directed 
to  proceed  against  all  offenders  as  heretics,  and  to  suppress 
Wiclif's  books  by  every  means  in  his  power.  To  this  Huss 
replied,  in  terms  similar  to  those  subsequently  used  by  Luther 
on  a  like  occasion :  "I  appeal  from  Alexander  ill-informed,  to 
Alexander  better-informed." 

The  archbishop  had,  the  year  before,  required  all  the  holders 
of  Wiclif's  books  to  deposit  them  at  the  archiepiscopal  palace; 
and  now,  emboldened  by  the  pontiff's  bull,  he  caused  upwards 
of  two  hundred  volumes,  beautifully  written  and  richly  orna- 
mented, including  the  works,  not  only  of  Wiclif,  but  those  of 
Huss  and  Jerome,  as  well  as  their  predecessors,  Miliez  and 
Janow,  mostly  belonging  to  members  of  the  University  of 
Prague,  to  be  committed  to  the  flames.  At  the  same  time  he 
prohibited  the  Bohemians  preaching  at  the  Bethlehem  chapel. 
This  act  was  deeply  resented,  and  John  Huss  undertook  the 
defence  of  the  university,  whose  privileges  had  thus  been  vio- 
lated. His  protest  against  the  unjust  sentence  was  finally  sub- 
mitted to  the  University  of  Bologna ;  while  the  prohibition  to 
preach  was  disregarded  by  Huss. 

Meantime  the  burning  of  the  books  had  occasioned  a  popular 
tumult,  and  Sbinko,  flying  to  the  king  for  protection,  was  coldly 
received.  The  University  of  Bologna  gave  judgment  against 
the  archbishop  ;  and  Huss,  strong  in  this  decision,  preferred  a 
final  appeal  to  the  pope ;  who,  however,  died  before  acting  on 
the  subject,  and  was  succeeded  by  John  XXIII. 

This  pontiff  summoned  Huss  to  appear  at  Rome  to  answer  for 
his  offences.  The  (jueen,  the  nobility,  tlie  professors  of  the 
university,  and  the  citizens  besought  King  Wenceslaus  not  to 
deliver  their  favourite  into  the  hands  of  so  formidable  an  enemy 
The  king  sent  a  numerous  embassy  into  Italy,  to  assure  the 
pope  that  Huss  was  a  worthy,  pious,  right-thinking  Christian, 


JOHN  HUBS.  17 

falsely  accused  by  his  enemies ;  and  refusing  his  personal  ap- 
pearance at  Rome.  This  representation  was  disregarded,  the 
envoys  were  imprisoned  ;  and  Huss  was  excommunicated  as  a 
heretic. 

The  intelligence  of  this  proceeding,  against  which  the  Bohe- 
mian ambassador  had  solemnly  protested,  caused  great  discon- 
tent at  Prague ;  and  this  was  especially  directed  against  the 
archbishop,  as  the  influential  enemy  of  Huss.  Sbiiiko  fled  to 
Hungary  to  implore  the  new  emperor,  Sigismund,  brother  of 
Wenceslaus,  to  put  down  the  new  heresy  by  force  of  arms, — a 
request  which  the  emperor  was  only  prevented  from  complying 
with,  by  his  being  occupied  in  a  war  with  the  Turks. 

The  departure  of  Sbinko  was  regarded  as  a  triumph  by  the 
Hussites,  as  the  reformer's  followers  were  now  called,  but  his 
sudden  death  on  the  road  being  unjustly  charged  upon  them, 
was  turned  into  a  weapon  of  offence  by  their  enemies. 

Huss,  meantime,  though  excommunicated,  continued  to  preach ; 
and  about  this  time  secured  the  devoted  friendship  of  Jerome  of 
Prague,  whose  destiny  was  to  be  so  signally  united  with  his  own. 

The  reader  will  recollect  that  at  this  period  three  popes  were  dis- 
tracting Europe  with  their  rival  claims.  Of  these,  John  XXIII. , 
who  Avas  the  most  warlike,  had  become  involved  in  a  war  with 
Ladislaus,  king  of  Naples ;  and  to  escape  burdening  his  own 
revenue  with  expense,  he  proclaimed  a  crusade  throughout 
Christendom,  requiring  support  against  his  personal  enemy. 
Among  others,  he  sent  a  special  bull  to  "  his  dearly  beloved 
children,"  the  Bohemians,  to  the  effect  that  '' eternal  salvation 
and  absolution  from  sin  might  be  obtained  in  exchange  for  their 
silver  and  gold,  or  even  for  their  iron  weapons  used  in  his  support." 

Against  the  iniquity  of  these  proceedings,  Huss  boldly  pro- 
tested, declaring,  that  the  objects  of  the  war  had  no  relation  to 
the  state  of  Christianity,  and  that  remission  of  sins  and  eternal 
salvation  were  to  be  sought  for,  not  by  the  useless  payment  of 
Peter's  pence,  but  by  a  life  of  faith  and  obedience  to  the  law 
of  God.  Not  satisfied  with  this,  Huss  affixed  a  placard  to  tiie 
doors  of  the  churches  in  Prague,  challenging  both  clergy  and 
laity  to  a  public  discussion  on  this  momentous  question,  ^*  Whether 
a  crusade  preached  against  a  Christian  people  could  be  recon- 
ciled with  the  honour  of  God,  the  .love  of  Christ,  the  duty  of  man, 
or  the  welfare  of  the  country  ?"     Immense  multitudes  assembled 


18  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

to  hear  the  discussion,  in  which  Huss  and  Jerome,  resting  ol 
the  simple  authority  of  the  Bible,  overturned  the  sophistry  of 
their  opponents,  armed  with  the  orthodox  weapons  of  common 
law,  bulls  and  decretals. 

Soon  after  this  event,  three  men  being  imprisoned  for  having 
spoken  against  the  pope  and  his  indulgences,  the  students  and 
people  of  Prague  rose  in  arms  and  demanded  their  release ; 
Huss,  being  appealed  to  by  the  magistrates  to  calm  the  tumult, 
on  the  faith  of  their  promise,  assured  the  people  that  the  prison- 
ers were  pardoned,  and  sent  them  home  with  shouts  of  triumph. 
But  as  soon  as  tlie  crowd  was  dispersed,  the  judges  caused  the 
captives  to  be  beheaded.  Their  blood,  flowing  beneath  the  door 
of  the  pi'ison,  gave  the  people  notice  of  this  base  treachery,  and 
a  furious  tumult  instantly  ensued  :  the  council-house  was  stormed, 
the  guilty  judges  fled  for  their  lives,  and  the  bodies  of  the 
victims  were  buried  with  great  funeral  pomp  ;  the  students  sing- 
ing in  chorus  over  their  tomb,  '^  They  are  saints  who  have  given 
up  their  bodies  for  the  gospel  of  Christ." 

During  the  progress  of  this  struggle  for  religious  liberty,  Pope 
John  ^XIII.  once  more  summoned  Huss  to  Rome  ;  and,  irritated 
at  his  disobedience,  and  alarmed  at  the  progress  of  his  opinions, 
he  stirred  up  against  him  the  secular  powers.  He  wrote  to 
Wenceshxus,  to  the  King  of  France,  and  to  the  various  universi- 
ties. Gerson  replied  in  the  name  of  the  University  of  Paris, 
summing  up  with  these  words :  "  It  only  remains  to  put  the 
axe  of  the  secular  arm  to  the  root  of  this  accursed  tree." 

Meanwhile  the  schism,  which  furnished  such  discordant  fruits 
elsewhere,  aftbrded  the  Hussites  new  arguments  for  opposing 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  pope.  "If  we  must  obey,"  said  tliey, 
"  to  whom  is  our  obedience  due  ?  Balthazar  Cossa,  called 
John  XXIIL,  is  at  Rome ;  Angelo  Corario,  named  Gregory 
XII.,  is  at  Rimini  ;  Peter  de  Lune,  who  calls  himself  Benedict 
XIII.,  is  in  Arragon.  If  one  of  them  ought  to  be  obeyed  as 
the  most  Holy  Father,  how  is  it  that  he  cannot  be  distinguished 
from  the  others,  or  that  he  fails  to  subdue  these  false  antipopes  ?" 

The  disturbances  still  continuing  in  Bohemia,  Huss,  who  was 
distrustful  of  the  protection  of  the  weak  King  Wenceslaus,  went 
to  the  feudal  lord  of  his  birth-place,  Nicholas  of  Ilussinetz,  the 
generous  protector  of  his  boyhood,  who  received  him  with  open. 
%rms.      Here,  and  in  many  places  in  the  circle  of  Bechin,  ho 


JOHN  HUSS.  19 

preached  with  much  success.   Here  also  he  wrote  his  memorable 

books,  "  On  the  Six  Errors,"  and  '<  On  the  Church,"  in  which 
he  attacks  transubstantiation,  the  belief  in  the  pope  and  the 
saints,  the  efficacy  of  the  absolution  of  a  vicious  priest,  uncon- 
ditional obedience  to  earthly  rulers,  and  simony,  which  was  then 
extremely  prevalent,  and  makes  the  Hol_y  Scriptures  the  only 
rule  in  matters  of  religion. 

The  approbation  with  which  these  doctrines  wei'e  received, 
both  among  the  nobility  and  the  common  people,  greatly  in- 
creased the  party  of  Huss  ;  and  as  nothing  was  nearer  his  heart 
than  the  diffusion  of  truth,  he  readily  complied  with  the  sum- 
mons of  the  Council  of  Constance  to  defend  his  opinions  before 
the  clergy  of  all  nations.  Wenceslaus  gave  him  the  Count 
Chlum  and  two  other  Bohemians  of  rank  for  his  escort,  and  the 
Emperor  Sigismund,  by  letters  of  safe  conduct,  became  responsi- 
ble for  his  personal  safety.  With  his  noble  escort,  the  poor 
excommunicated  priest  took  his  departure  for  Constance,  with 
simple  trust  in  Grod,  and  a  courage  supplied  by  conscious  recti- 
tude, all  unknown  to  his  lordly  enemy  John  XXIII.,  who  at  the 
same  time  was  wending  his  way  towards  that  eventful  assembly. 

On  the  road,  Huss  was  everywhere  received  by  the  people 
with  welcome  and  rejoicing,  and  led  with  triumph  through  the 
streets  of  the  several  towns  that  lay  on  his  way  ;  and  at  length, 
on  the  3d  of  November,  1414,  he  arrived,  with  his  Bohemian 
escort,  at  Constance. 

Less  propitious  were  the  omens  that  attended  the  approach 
of  the  pontiff  to  the  city,  his  carriage  liaving  been  overturned 
on  one  of  the  mountains  which  overlook  it.  On  getting  up,  he 
passionately  exclaimed,  "By  the  power  of  Satan,  behold  me 
fallen  !  why  did  I  not  remain  quietly  at  Bologna?"  and  looking 
down  on  the  city,  he  added,  "  I  see  how  it  is ;  that  is  the  pit 
where  the  foxes  are  snared  !" 

On  reaching  Constance,  the  companions  of  Huss  waited  on 
the  pope,  announcing  his  arrival  under  a  "safe-conduct"  of 
the  emperor,  and  asking  further  assurance  of  his  personal 
safety.  "Had  he  killed  my  own  brother,"  replied  the  pope, 
"not  a  hair  of  his  head  should  be  touched  during  his  stay  here." 
Yet  his  destruction  was  already  determined  on.  Nor  was  he 
insensible  of  his  danger.  "  I  confide  altogether  in  my  Saviour," 
he  writes  at  this  time.    "I  trust  that  he  will  accord  me  his  Holy 


20  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

Spirit,  to  fortify  me  in  his  truth,  so  that  I  may  face  with  courage 
temptations,  prison,  and  if  necessary  a  cruel  death." 

Articles  of  indictment  were  secretly  prepared  against  him, 
at  the  same  time  that  he  was  induced  to  desist  from  preaching, 
under  a  false  promise  of  being  relieved  from  excommunication. 
Meantime  the  rumoured  approach  of  the  emperor  hastened 
operations,  and  all  being  prepared,  the  Bishops  of  Augsburg 
and  Trent,  Avith  the  Mayor  of  Constance  and  others,  broke  in, 
unexpected,  upon  Huss  while  at  dinner  with  Count  Chlum,  and 
summoned  him  to  a  private  audience  with  the  pope  and  cardi- 
nals. He  replied,  that  he  came  to  Constance  to  speak  in  open 
council,  according  to  the  ability  God  would  give  him.  The 
bishops  assured  him  that  he  had  nothing  to  fear,  and  finally 
induced  him  and  Count  Chlum  to  accompany  them  to  the  papal 
palace,  where  they  were  instantly  arrested  and  put  under  mili- 
tary guard. 

Chlum  being  soon  after  released,  demanded  an  explanation 
of  tliis  violation  of  good  faith,  from  the  pope,  who  disclaimed 
the  act,  and  referred  him  to  the  cardinals,  who  he  said  had 
overmastered  him.  The  Bohemian  knight  next  appealed  to  the 
cardinals,  one  of  whom  impudently  denied  the  validity  of  the 
safe-conduct  of  a  layman,  and  another  declared,  that  no  faith 
need  be  kept  with  heretics.  After  a  week's  confinement  in  a 
private  house,  Huss  was  taken  to  the  prison  of  the  Dominican 
monastery,  on  tlie  banks  of  the  Rhine,  and  immersed  in  one  of 
its  deepest  and  filthiest  dungeons,  where  he  was  speedily  brought 
to  death's  door  by  a  raging  fever  ;  and  the  pope,  in  order  to 
save  him  for  the  future  burning,  sent  his  own  physicians  to 
attend  him.  Meantime  the  emperor,  informed  of  what  had 
passed  by  Count  Chlum,  instructed  his  ambassador,  on  the  in- 
stant to  set  John  Huss  at  liberty,  and,  if  resistance  were  made, 
to  break  open  the  doors.  Yet  still  he  remained  in  prison. 
Sigismund  listened  to  arguments  of  political  expediency,  and, 
to  avert  public  odium  for  his  bad  faith,  published  a  letter  filled 
with  the  specious  sophistries  by  which  the  priests  had  influenced 
himself.  The  intre})id  Count  Chlum  made  his  last  vain  appeal 
to  the  people,  and  afiixed  to  the  church  doors  an  earnest  protest 
against  the  violation  of  the  imperial  safe-conduct. 

On  the  24tli  of  December,  the  emperor  arrived  at  Consta-nce; 
and,  soon  after,  the  pretensions  of  the  rival  pontifls  being  dis- 


JOHN  HTJSS.  21 

eussed  in  the  General  Council,  John  XXIII.,  threatened  with 
accusations  of  the  most  infamous  crimes,  was  induced  to  resign 
the  tiara.  When  Huss  had  been  three  months  in  prison,  John 
XXIII.  fled  to  Schaffhausen,  one  of  his  last  acts  beino-,  to 
transfer  Huss  to  the  cardinals,  who  sent  him  to  the  castle  of 
Gotleben,  on  the  Rhine,  where  he  was  shut  up,  with  irons  on  his 
feet ;  and  at  night,  a  chain  attached  to  the  wall  prevented  the 
captive  from  moving  from  his  bed.  Thus,  in  defiance  of  the 
most  solemn  promise  of  the  pope,  he  was  handed  over  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  his  sworn  enemies.  Ere  a  few  months  elapsed, 
however,  the  dethroned  pontiff  was  ignominiously  brought  back 
to  Constance,  and  conveyed  a  prisoner  to  the  same  fortress 
where  his  victim  yet  lingered,  the  prisoner  of  a  ''better  hope." 

The  indefatigable  Count  Chlum,  and  other  Bohemian  nobles, 
used  their  most  zealous  exertions  to  prevail  on  the  emperor, 
ftt  this  crisis,  to  ratify  his  own  promises;  but  the  utmost  they 
could  obtain  was  permission  to  visit  him,  in  the  presence  of 
"witnesses.  He  was  found  by  them  in  so  miserable  and  ema- 
ciated a  state,  that  these  brave  men  were  melted  to  tears,  at 
the  sight  of  his  sufferings,  and  the  meek  spirit  in  which  he  bore 
them. 

When  the  cruel  treatment  of  Huss  became  known  in  Boliemia, 
it  excited  universal  indigna.tion.  In  the  generous  mind  of  Je- 
rome of  Prague,  sympathy  for  his  friend  overpowered  all  sense 
of  danger,  and  he  immediately  set  out  for  Constance.  He  was 
arrested  at  Herschau,  in  the  Upper  Palatinate,  and  brought  to 
Constance  on  a  cart,  loaded  with  chains,  where  he  was  presented 
to  a  conclave  of  priests  assembled  at  the  convent  of  the  Francis- 
cans. Delivered  by  them  to  the  cruel  Archbishop  of  Riga,  he 
was  thrown,  heavily  ironed,  into  the  dark  dungeon  of  a  tower 
in  the  cemetry  of  St.  Paul.  His  chains  were  riveted  to  a  lofty 
beam,  so  as  to  prevent  his  sitting  down ;  while  his  arms  were 
fastened  with  irons  behind  his  neck,  so  as  to  force  down  his 
head.  Such  were  the  studied  tortures  with  which  papacy  was 
accustomed  to  punish  the  expression  of  liberal  opinions.  In 
this  dreadful  dungeon  Jerome  was  confined  for  a  whole  year, 
the  severity  of  his  treatment  being  relaxed  only  when  his  life 
threatened  to  fall  a  sacrifice  to  such  rigour. 

The  arre?t  of  Jerome,  the  pupil  and  friend  of  Huss,  was  a 
Bevere  blow  to  him.     In  vain  did  he   solicit  the   privilege  of 


22  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

sharing  the  same  dungeon  with  his  partner  in  misfortwne.  All 
his  entreaties  on  this  head  were  sternly  disregarded. 

The  utmost  that  the  friends  of  Huss  could  obtain  for  him 
was  a  public  trial,  which  he  owed  to  the  interference  of  the 
emperor ;  his  enemies  having  striven  in  vain  to  avert  this,  from 
their  dread  of  the  influence  of  his  eloquence  on  the  assembly ; 
and  this,  for  a  time,  revived  the  hopes  of  his  faithful  adherents. 

On  the  7th  of  June,  1418,  the  council  being  assembled,  the 
reformer  was  led  before  them  by  a  numerous  guard  of  soldiers. 
The  emperor  was  present,  and  none  had  a  more  painful  part  to 
play  than  himself.  Before  him  stood  the  same  John  Huss, 
loaded  with  chains,  for  whose  liberty  he  had  pledged  his  impe- 
rial word.  He  came  with  the  vain  hope  of  devising  some  means 
of  escape  for  the  prisoner  that  should  wipe  from  his  conscience 
the  reproach  under  which  it  trembled. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  attempt  an  abstract  of  the  complicated 
charges  of  heresy  which  were  advanced  on  three  successive 
appearances  of  the  reformer  before  the  council.  Scarcely  a 
show  of  justice  was  attempted.  "  Recantation  or  death"  was 
the  alternative  offered,  and  the  voice  of  the  prisoner  was  drowned 
in  this  reiterated  cry. 

Yet  among  the  milder  of  his  judges,  there  were  not  wanting 
those  who  earnestly  seconded  the  emperor  in  striving  to  procure 
such  a  form  of  abjuration  as  might  prove  acceptable  to  Huss, 
and  rescue  them  from  the  alternative  of  sanctioning  his  con- 
demnation. And  perhaps  the  noble  firmness  of  the  martyr 
never  shone  more  brightly  than  when  he  who  had  stood  un- 
daunted before  the  threats  of  malignant  judges,  passed  unmoved 
through  the  harder  ordeal  of  the  entreaties  and  tears  of  his 
friends.  Sigismund  awaited  the  result  of  their  final  effort  with 
an  anxiety  that  proves  the  acuteness  with  which  he  suffered 
under  the  stings  of  conscience.  "John  Huss,"  says  a  German 
author,  "forced  on  the  emperor  the  violation  of  his  faith,  and 
had  a  noble  revenge  in  taking  from  him  the  power  of  rescuing 
him  from  the  funeral  pile."  Sigismund  was  now  taught  by 
bitter  experience,  that  a  sceptre  which  has  long  been  swayed 
by  the  councils  of  the  hierarchy  is  not  only  gradually  wrested 
from  the  bands  of  the  rightful  owner,  but  is  turned  into  the 
means  of  his  own  punishment.  Importuned  by  priests  of  all 
•»r(?.ers,  he  at  length   exclaimed,  in   bitterness,    "  Let   him   die 


JOHN   HUSS.  23 

then!"  and  when  still  further  pressed,  he  even  fixed  the  day  for 
Huss's  execution. 

Hitherto,  in  this  vast  assembly,  we  have  only  beheld  the  bitter 
enemies  of  truth  and  justice ;  yet  even  here  the  dark  picture 
is  not  unrelieved  by  light.  The  Cardinal  Bishop  of  Ostia  had, 
at  first,  like  other  Italians,  regarded  the  reformer  with  horror 
as  a  wilful  heretic.  But  now,  when  he  became  convinced  of  his 
sincerity,  sympathy  and  admiration  took  the  place  of  dislike, 
and  he  visited  IJuss  again  and  again  in  prison,  striving  by  every 
means  in  his  power  to  procure  his  deliverance,  and  even  be- 
Beeching  him  with  tears,  to  adopt  such  a  form  of  recantation  as 
might  enable  his  friends  to  set  him  at  liberty.  Huss  was  deeply 
moved,  on  seeing  his  enemy  thus  transformed  into  an  earnest 
friend:  "  Most  reverend  father,"  said  he  with  tears,  "  I  know 
not  how  to  thank  you  for  this  kindness  to  a  poor  prisoner ; 
but,"  added  he,  pressing  the  bishop's  hand  to  his  heart,  "I  can- 
not deny  the  truth ;  I  would  rather,  by  death,  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  Lord,  than  live  a  victim  to  endless  remorse." 
The  bishop,  overpowered  with  the  interview,  and  the  firmness 
of  one  thus  in  sight  of  a  painful  death,  could  only  ejaculate, 
<'  I  cannot  help  thee  !  I  cannot  condemn  thee  !  may  God 
strengthen  thee  !"  and,  in  tears,  he  bade  him  farewell.  Nor 
should  it  be  forgotten,  that  there  is  still  shown,  in  the  ch:ir  of 
the  church  at  Constance,  the  monument  of  an  English  bishop 
who  died  of  grief  at  witnessing  the  death  of  John  Iluss. 

The  sixth  of  July,  the  forty-second  birth-day  of  Huss,  was 
opened  with  especial  pomp  by  the  council ;  the  emperor,  the 
cardinals  and  bishops,  and  the  princes  of  the  empire  were  pre- 
sent, with  an  immense  concourse  of  people,  assembled  to  wit' 
ness  his  degradation.  He  was  led  from  the  prison  in  fetters, 
and  kept  outside  till  high  mass  was  celebrated,  lest  the  holy 
mysteries  should  be  profaned  by  the  presence  of  such  a  heretic. 
Thirty-nine  articles  of  accusation  were  read  against  him.  Huss 
repeatedly  attempted  to  protest  against  their  false  accusations, 
but  the  Bishop  of  Florence  commanded  the  beadles  to  stop  his 
mouth  by  force.  The  prisoner  knelt,  and  raising  his  hands  to 
heaven,  commended  his  cause  to  God.  When  at  length  ho 
was  permitted  to  speak,  he  closed  his  brief  reply  in  these  me- 
morable words :  "  I  determined  of  mine  own  free-will  to  appear 
before  this  council,  under  the  public  protection  and  faith  of  tlie 


24  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS- 

emperor  here  present."  John  Huss,  in  pronouncing  this,  looked 
steadfastly  at  Sigismund,  and  a  deep  blush  at  once  mounted  to 
the  imperial  brow.  The  remembrance  of  this  was  long  pre- 
served in  Germany,  and  when,  at  the  celebrated  Diet  of  Worms, 
the  enemies  of  Luther  pressed  Charles  V.  to  have  him  seized; 
in  contempt  of  his  safe-conduct,  "No,"  replied  the  emperor,  '*I 
should  not  like  to  blush  like  Sigismund  !" 

The  ceremony  of  degradation  was  then  commenced ;  seven 
bishops,  appointed  for  the  purpose,  clothed  Hus«  in  sacerdotal 
habits,  and  placed  the  chalice  in  his  hand,  as  if  about  to  cele- 
brate mass.  He  was  once  more  admonished  to  retract,  and 
then  the  chalice  was  taken  from  him,  and  his  robes  stripped  off, 
the  removal  of  each  being  accompanied  with  an  especial  curse. 
A  paper  mitre,  on  which  were  painted  frightful  demons,  was 
then  placed  on  his  head ;  and  thus  arrayed,  the  seven  prelates 
devoted  his  soul  to  the  devil:  '«And  I,"  said  Huss,  "commend 
my  soul  to  the  Lord."  He  was  then  delivered  into  the  hands 
of  the  secular  power,  and  led  forth  to  the  place  of  execution. 

'On  the  way,  Huss  was  detained  to  witness  the  burning  of  his 
books  in  the  churchyard,  and  smiled  at  the  sight.  According 
to  the  testimony,  even  of  his  enemies,  he  exhibited  to  the  last 
moment  of  his  life  an  astonishing  dauntlessness  of  spirit.  He 
was  placed  with  his  back  to  the  stake,  and  bound  to  it  with  Avet 
cords,  in  addition  to  a  strong  iron  chain,  which  secured  his 
neck  and  feet,  and  held  his  head  down  to  the  wood.  Fagots 
were  then  arranged  about  him,  wood  and  straw  being  piled  up 
to  his  knees.  An  old  peasant,  thinking  to  propitiate  heaven, 
hastily  brought  a  fagot  of  wood  to  the  pile;  but  Huss  only 
smiled  on  him,  with  a  compassionate  look,  exclaiming,  "0  holy 
innocence  !"  The  Duke  of  Bavaria,  then  riding  up  to  the  stake, 
besought  him  not  to  die  in  his  deadly  errors ;  but  the  reformer 
exclaimed  in  a  clear  voice,  '<  I  have  ever  taught  according  to 
God's  word,  and  will  still  hold  fast  the  truth,  which  this  very 
hour  I  shall  seal  with  my  death  !"  Astonished  at  a  firmness, 
the  source  of  wliich  he  could  not  understand,  the  duke  clasped 
his  hands  over  his  face,  and  fled  from  the  scene.  Fire  was  then 
Bet  to  the  pile,  and  the  martyr  no  sooner  beheld  the  blaze,  than 
he  began  to  sing  the  verse  of  an  ancient  Bohemian  hymn. 
After  the  words,  "  And  take  me  to  thyself,  to  live  with  thee 
for  ever,"  his  voice  was  stifled  by  the  smoke.     For  a  few  mo- 


JOHN  HtJSS.  25 

tnents  his  lips  continued  to  move,  as  if  in  prayer.  His  head 
then  sunk  on  his  shoulders,  and  the  ransomed  spirit  of  the  noble 
confessor  was  borne,  on  the  flames  of  the  martyr-pyre,  "  where 
tears  are  wiped  from  every  eye,  and  sorrow  is  unknown." 

His  habits  were  burned  with  him,  part  of  his  dress  being  re- 
covered, with  large  bribes,  to  be  cast  upon  the  pile,  as  if  with 
the  hope  of  blotting  out  every  remembrance  of  him  from  the 
earth.  When  all  was  consumed,  they  were  not  content  with 
merely  removing  the  ashes,  but  digging  up  the  earth,  to  the 
depth  of  four  feet,  they  gathered  the  whole  together,  and  threw 
it  into  the  Rhine. 


2C 


LIVES  OF  EMINLifT  CHRISTIANS. 


JEROME  FOULFISCH, 

COMMONLY  CALLED  JEROME  OF  PRAGUE. 


HIS  eminent  reformer,  the  pupil  and  friend 
of  John  Huss,  was  of  the  family  of  Foulfisch 
and  was  educated  at  the  Universities  of 
Prague,  Paris,  Cologne,  and  Heidelberg.  In 
learning  and  eloquence  he  excelled  Huss  ;  but 
was  his  inferior  in  prudence  and  moderation. 
His  reputation  for  learning  was  so  great,  that 
he  was  employed  by  Ladislaus  IL,  of  Poland, 
organize  the  University  of  Cracow ;  and  Si- 
5mund  of  Hungary  caused  Jerome  to  preach  be- 
him  in  Buda.  The  doctrines  of  Wiclif,  which 
v^^i^^^v ')  he  introduced  into  bis  preaching,  subjected  him  to 
"/^|L^  a  short  imprisonment  by  the  University  of  Vienna, 
but  he  was  released  by  the  people  of  Prague.  He  now 
took  a  zealous  part,  as  we  have  already  seen,  in  the 
contest  of  his  friend  Huss  against  the  abuses  of  the 
hierarchy  and  the  dissoluteness  of  the  clergy,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  proceeded  to  violence.  He  attacked  the  worship  of 
relics  with  his  characteristic  ardour,  trampled  them  under  foot, 
and  caused  the  monks,  who  opposed  him,  to  be  arrested,  and 
even  had  one  thrown  into  the  river  Moldau.  He  publicly 
burned,  in  1411,  the  bull  of  the  crusade  against  Ladislaus  of 
Naples,  and  the  papal  indulgences. 

AVhen  John  Huss  was  imprisoned  at  Constance,  Jerome  could 
not  remain  inactive,  but  hastened  to  his  defence.  We  have 
already  seen,  that  on  his  way,  he  was  arrested,  carried  in  chains 
to  Constance,  and  closely  imprisoned. 

The  execution  of  John  Huss  afforded  a  fresh  proof  of  the 
inefficacy  of  such  means  for  the  suppression  of  truth.  The  fire 
which  consumed  him  gave  new  life  to  his  doctrines,  and  the 


JEROME  OF  PRAGUE.  27 

flames  that  surrounded  his  stake  set  Bohemia  on  fire.  When 
the  news  reached  Prague,  the  people  flocked  to  the  chapel  of 
Bethlehem,  and  this  man,  whom  the  council  had  burned  as  a 
heretic,  was  honoured  by  the  Bohemians  as  a  martyr  and  a 
saint. 

Nor  was  it  merely  the  illiterate  crowd  that  rendered  this 
homage  to  his  memory  ;  the  nobles  of  the  kingdom  met  together, 
and,  with  their  hands  on  their  swords,  swore  to  avenge  him  whom 
they  regarded  as  the  apostle  of  Bohemia. 

Meanwhile  Jerome  was  still  kept  in  irons,  in  the  tower  of  St. 
Paul's  cemetery ;  no  severity  had  been  spared  him  in  his  noi- 
some dungeon,  and  his  legs  Avere  already  afflicted  with  incurable 
sores.  In  this  state,  he  was  brought  out,  and  summoned,  under 
pain  of  being  burned,  to  abjure  his  errors ;  human  weakness 
prevailed,  and  the  bold  Jerome  of  Prague  submitted  himself  to 
the  will  of  the  council. 

New  forms  of  abjuration  were  devised,  by  the  fiercer  partisans 
of  Rome,  to  humble  the  disciple  of  Huss,  and  new  crimes 
brought  forward  by  his  accusers.  His  contempt,  for  relics  was 
dwelt  on  with  peculiar  zeal ;  and  it  was  asserted  that  he  had 
dared  to  uphold,  <'that  the  veil  of  the  Virgin  was  not  more 
worthy  of  the  homage  of  Christians  than  the  skin  of  the  ass 
on  which  Christ  had  ridden." 

But  the  mind  of  this  noble  follower  of  Huss  speedily  re- 
covered its  elasticity,  and  on  his  subsequent  examinations,  he 
indignantly  rejected  their  forms  of  recantation,  and  refused  to 
acknowledge  himself  guilty  of  error.  He  spoke  in  the  highest 
terms  of  Huss,  and  declared  himself  ready  to  follow  him  to  the 
stake  in  defence  of  the  truth. 

The  assembly  were  excited  to  the  utmost  violence  by  his 
heroic  profession,  and  called  loudly  for  his  condemnation. 
"What,"  exclaimed  Jerome,  "you  have  held  me  for  a  whole 
year  in  a  frightful  dungeon,  till  my  fiesh  has  literally  rotted 
off  my  bones,  and  do  you  suppose  I  fear  to  die?"  A  fresh 
burst  of  clamour  rose  against  him,  but  he  stood  undaunted 
before  them,  and  repelled  their  accusations  with  a  boldness  that 
made  the  fiercest  quail.  He  was  led  back  to  his  dungeon ;  his 
hands,  his  arms,  and  his  feet  loaded  with  irons ;  the  intrepid 
follower  of  Huss  had  pronounced  his  own  doom. 

A  death  thus  voluntarily  encountered,  for  a  just  and  holy 


28  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

cause,  Is  the  more  worthy  of  admiration,  as  it  had  been  pre- 
viously shunned.  The  very  circumstance  of  his  early  dread 
throws  an  additional  interest  round  the  last  moments  of  Jerome, 
when,  under  even  worse  circumstances  than  his  forerunner, 
he  manifested  all  his  intrepidity,  without  the  presence  of  a  sin- 
gle earthly  friend  to  strengthen  his  soul  in  the  trying  hour. 

Jerome  was  brought  forth  from  his  dungeon,  to  face  his  per- 
secutors for  the  last  time.  The  Bishop  of  Lodi  ascended  the 
pulpit,  and  in  a  long  discourse  inveighed  against  the  captive, 
as  an  obstinate  and  accursed  heretic,  "  whose  neck  is  an  iron 
sinew  and  thy  brow  brass  !"  Jerome  replied  to  him,  in  bold 
and  heart-stirring  words,  repelling  those  false  accusations,  but 
anew  expressing  his  abhorrence  at  his  own  abjuration  of  the 
doctrines  of  Huss,  and  declaring  his  admiration  of  that  lowly 
and  just  man.  Finally,  he  appealed  from  their  sentence,  and 
summoned  them  to  answer  for  it  at  the  sacred  tribunal  of  Jesus 
Christ.  He  was  then  condemned,  as  an  excommunicated  here- 
tic, declared  accursed,  and  without  further  ceremony  delivered 
over  to  the  secular  power. 

A  high  crown  of  paper,  on  which  were  painted  demons  in 
flames,  was  then  brought  in.  Jerome,  on  seeing  it,  threw  his 
hat  on  the  ground,  and  placing  it  on  his  own  head,  exclaimed, 
"  Jesus  Christ,  Avho  died  for  me  a  sinner,  wore  a  crown  of  thorns. 
I  willingly  wear  this  for  him."  The  soldiers  then  seized  him 
and  led  him  away  to  death.  On  coming  to  the  stake,  to  which 
he  was  about  to  be  bound,  he  knelt  in  prayer  to  God.  The 
executioners  raised  him  while  still  praying,  and  having  bound 
him  to  the  stake  with  cords  and  chains,  they  heaped  up  around 
him  the  pile  of  wood  and  straw.  When  the  wood  was  raised  on 
a  level  with  his  head,  his  vestments  were  thrown  on  the  pile, 
and  the  executioner  proceeded  to  set  fire  to  the  mass  behind, 
ashamed  to  be  seen.  <'  Come  forward  boldly,"  exclaimed  Je- 
rome, "  apply  the  fire  before  my  face.  Had  I  been  afraid,  1 
should  not  be  here."  When  it  had  taken  fire,  he  said  with  a 
loud  voice,  **  Lord,  into  thy  hands  do  I  commit  my  spirit  I" 
A.nd  the  voice  of  prayer  was  silenced  in  the  consuming  flames. 

His  ashes,  like  those  of  Huss,  were  collected,  and  thrown 
into  the  Rhine ;  renewing  again  the  emblem  of  truth,  borne  by 
the  mighty  river  into  the  bosom  of  the  ocean,  thence  to  dis- 
fieminate  its  healing  virtues  to  every  land. 


JEROME  OF  PRAGUE.  2^ 

The  dying  embers  of  their  funeral  piles  kindled  the  moun- 
tain fires  of  Bohemia.  The  very  ground  where  the  stake  was 
placed  was  hollowed  out,  and  the  earth  on  which  they  had  suf- 
fered carried  to  Bohemia,  and  guarded  with  religious  care. 
But  the  influence  of  the  noble  martyrs'  example  has  not  yet  run 
its  course;  nor  has  the  flame  Avhich  it  kindled  been  yet  extin- 
guished. It  lighted  the  altars  of  the  Reformation  in  the  follow- 
ing century,  and  shone  as  a  beacon  fire  through  every  succeeding 
age.  Like  a  billow  raised  in  the  solitude  of  the  vast  ocean,  it 
has  gone  on  widening  and  increasing  its  sphere,  rolling  on  an 
irresistible  wave,  unquelled  by  opposition,  unchecked  by  every 
barrier  in  its  path.  Nor  will  the  mighty  movement  stay  its 
course,  till  the  billow,  dashed  upon  earth's  furthest  shore,  still 
into  the  calm  of  gospel  peace,  and  time  shall  disclose  the  tri- 
umphant end,  when  "they  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  the  bright- 
ness of  the  firmament ;  and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness 
as  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever." 


90 


LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 


GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA. 


AYONAROLA,  the  connecting  link  between 
the  reformation  of  John  Huss  and  Martin 
Luther,  was  born  at  Ferrara,  September  21, 
1452.  His  parents  were  of  noble  extraction ; 
and  in  common  with  the  Italian  nobility  of 
f/^^^^^f^-^  that  day,  were  enthusiastic  supporters  of  learn- 
W^^^v^^i  ^"S"  ^^^^^^'  ^^i^  grandfather,  young  Savonarola 
)vL7^^^  made  rapid  advances  in  natural  philosophy  and 
^^/  medicine ;  and  when  this  affectionate  relative 
died,  his  pupil,  then  ten  years  old,  was  instructed 
1l  in  logic  and  philosophy  by  his  father,  and  in  the 
classics  by  teachers  of  approved  learning.  Plato  he 
studied  with  enthusiasm  ;  while  the  cultivation  of  his 
poetic  powers  and  the  perusal  of  Dante  and  Petrarch 
relieved  the  intervals  of  graver  pursuits. 
But  another  subject  had  in  the  mean  while  engrossed 
the  young  student's  attention.  It  was  religion — an  inward  im- 
pulse that  he  was  destined  for  something  higher  and  better  than 
the  things  of  earth.  His  deep  sensibility  upon  this  subject  had 
been  noticed  in  earliest  childhood ;  and  it  was  this  which  had 
rendered  him  an  enthusiastic  votary  of  Plato.  He  had  wit- 
nessed the  canonization  of  Catherine  of  Sienna,  and  afterwards 
neither  the  charms  of  literature,  the  prospects  of  fame,  nor  the 
fascinations  of  wealth  could  efface  the  impression  of  that  event. 
In  the  hours  of  silence  and  solitude,  or  amid  the  hurry  of  busi- 
ness, his  mind  wandered  to  the  splendid  ceremonies  of  the  ca- 
thedral— the  adoration  of  the  host,  the  narrative  of  faith  and 
virtue,  and  the  matchless  music  of  the  choir.  A  sense  of  his 
own  sinfulness  was  ever  present  to  his  mind ;  and  its  effect 
was  heightened  to  intensity  by  the  aid  of  a  powerful  imagina- 
tion, which,  continually  picturing  the  horrors  of  Dante's  Pur- 
gatory, left  to  him  rest  neither  day  nor  night.     Hurried  for- 


GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA.  31 

ward  by  such  feelings,  he  resolved  to  seek,  amid  the  seclusion 
and  fancied  holiness  of  a  monastery,  that  peace  Avhich  the  world 
could  not  afford.  In  April,  1475,  he  joined  the  Dominicans  at 
Bologna. 

Savonarola  was  disappointed.  The  monastery  of  the  age  of 
Sixtus  IV.  and  Alexander  was  no  school  to  lead  the  inquiring 
mind  to  Christ.  The  young  monk  entered  with  a  heart  broken 
in  view  of  his  sins  ;  but  he  found  there  neither  balm  nor  physi- 
cian. Sometimes  he  expounded  Aristotle;  sometimes  Thomas 
Aquinas.  Most  of  his  brother  monks,  when  not  engaged  in 
study  or  labour,  rioted  in  immorality  and  wickedness  ;  and  Savo- 
narola, though  filled  with  anguish  at  the  sense  of  his  own  mise- 
rable condition,  felt  that  there  was  no  one  to  whom  he  could 
apply  for  advice  or  relief.  At  this  crisis  he  became  acquainted 
with  the  Sacred  Scriptures.  Every  thing  else  was  forgotten. 
From  that  moment  his  chief  occupation  was  to  study  them,  to 
obey  them,  and  apply  their  truths  to  his  life  and  conscience. 
By  them  he  learned  that  the  real  Catholic  church  consists  of 
those  who,  through  the  grace  of  God,  follow  righteousness ; 
and  that  the  nominal  church  had  departed  from  primitive  sim- 
plicity, had  introduced  ceremonies  unauthorized  by  the  word  of 
God,  and  had  substituted  obedience  to  these  rituals  for  obedi- 
ence to  the  command  of  God.  Still  he  revered  the  Church  of 
Rome ;  he  revered  the  priestly  office ;  and  after  a  novitiate  of 
seven  years,  he  was  himself  ordained  a  priest. 

Savonarola  began  preaching  at  Florence  during  the  Lent  of 
1483.  On  account  of  his  awkward  figure  and  unpleasant  voice, 
his  first  efforts  were  unsuccessful,  and  he  desisted.  After  two 
years  of  laborious  application,  he  recommenced,  with  the  most 
flattering  results.  Such  was  the  loftiness  of  his  thought,  the 
fervour  of  his  devotion,  and  his  power  in  exposing  the  then  pre- 
valent corruptions,  that  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  invited  him  to  become 
a  permanent  resident  at  Florence.  The  invitation  was  accepted, 
and  Savonarola  was  created  Prior  of  San  Marco.  Here  his 
lectures,  especially  those  on  the  Apocalyp.se,  were  crowded  by 
hearers  of  all  classes.  Often  there  was  no  room  for  the  monks, 
many  of  whom  stood  on  the  choir  wall.  His  sermons  were  based 
on  three  points,  that  the  church  should  be  reformed,  that  all 
Italy  was  soon  to  be  heavily  visited  for  sin,  and  that  the  punish- 
ment would  soon  arrive.     But  his  preaching  was  not  confined 


82  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

to  such  themes.  ''None,"  he  cried,  "can  glory  in  themselves; 
and  if  in  the  presence  of  God  the  question  were  put  to  all  the 
righteous,  '  Have  you  been  saved  by  your  own  strength  ?'  they 
would  all  with  one  voice  exclaim,  *Not  unto  us,  0  Lord,  but 
unto  thy  name  be  the  glory.'  "  To  support  such  appeals,  he  re- 
ferred continually  to  Scripture.  "Not  what  saith  the  Church  ;  but 
what  saith  the  Lord :  give  yourself  to  the  study  of  the  Sacred 
Scriptures :  let  us  publicly  confess  the  truth,  the  Sacred  Scrip- 
tures have  been  locked  up  :  this  light  has  almost  been  extinguish- 
ed among  men."  At  the  monastery  he  restricted  himself  to 
four  hours  of  rest,  and  employed  the  remaining  time,  not  occupied 
in  study  or  preaching,  to  hold  spiritual  conversation  with  the 
brethren  under  his  charge,  whom  he  visited  for  that  purpose  from 
cell  to  cell.  He  exhorted  his  patron  Lorenzo  to  abandon  the 
religion  of  the  senses,  and  adopt  that  of  the  heart. 

During  these  labours  of  the  faithful  monk,  the  great  Medici 
died;  and  about  this  time  Savonarola  became  entangled  in  the 
politico-religious  party  which  opposed  the  Medician  influence. 
Piero  de'  Medici,  successor  to  Lorenzo,  was  rash  and  vacillating  ; 
riots  and  plunderings  ensued  ;  Charles  VIII.  invaded  Italy  with  a 
French  army,  and  the  republican  party,  to  which  Savonarola 
belonged,  acquired  the  ascendency.  The  monk's  conduct  at 
this  time  may  appear  strange,  unless  we  view  it  with  strict  refer- 
ence to  the  spirit  of  that  age  and  country.  He  looked  upon 
Charles  VIII.  as  the  instrument  divinely  appointed  to  efiect  the 
reformation  of  Italy,  and  solemnly  exhorted  the  monarch  to  re- 
gard his  high  commission.  But  when  Charles,  on  visiting  Flo- 
rence, treated  the  people  with  indignity,  Savonarola  again  sought 
his  presence,  and  delivered  such  a  reproof  as  seldom  meets  royal 
ears.  In  all  this  we  see  the  strange  mixture  of  true  religion 
and  blind  fanaticism  which  pervaded  the  most  eminent  minds 
of  that  day.  The  government  which  Savonarola  wished  to  es- 
tablish was  a  pure  theocracy,  and  for  a  while  he  seemed  likely 
to  efiect  it.  The  Florentines,  lately  abandoned  to  frivolity  ana 
vice,  were  animated  through  his  preaching  to  religious  enthu- 
fiiasm.  Shops  were  shut  till  after  the  morning  service.  Games 
and  public  amusements  were  abandoned.  Industry  and  sobriety 
wore  rewarded,  and  attendance  on  religious  services  filled  up 
the  mtervals  of  necessary  business.  Gay  processions  were  re- 
placed by  religious  dances,  accompanied  by  the  singing  of  hymns ; 


GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA.  33 

and  at  the  season  of  carnival,  books,  statues,  and  pictures, 
which  Savonarola  had  condemned  as  heathenish  or  immoral, 
were  burned  in  the  public  squares.  The  good  work  extended 
even  to  the  monasteries,  whose  members,  especially  those  of  the 
Dominicans,  abandoned  many  evil  habits,  and  adopted  a  purer 
code. 

Meanwhile,  Alexander  VI.  assumed  the  tiara.  That  bad  man 
soon  observed  the  movements  in  Florence,  of  course  with  no 
friendly  eye.  Savonarola  presently  perceived  that  he  was  a  mark- 
ed man;  but  instead  of  being  daunted,  he  exclaimed,  "Write  to 
Rome,  that  this  light  is  kindled  in  all  places.  Rome  shall  not 
quench  this  fire,  as  nevertheless  it  will  endeavour  to  do.  Nay,  if 
it  quenches  it  in  one,  then  will  another  and  a  stronger  break 
out."  The  pope  found  it  necessary  to  proceed  with  caution 
against  the  favourite  of  a  city  like  Florence.  In  1495,  he  com- 
manded Savonarola  to  preach  during  Lent  at  Lucca,  instead  of 
Florence.  The  monk  prepared  to  obey,  but  through  the  inter- 
ference of  the  magistrates,  the  order  was  revoked.  Alexander 
then  requested  a  Dominican  bishop  to  repair  to  Florence,  and 
controvert  the  brother's  preaching.  "  Furnish  me  with  arms 
then,"  answered  the  bishop,  "  for  since  Savonarola  speaks  truly 
of  the  clergy,  I  must  be  informed  what  to  reply."  It  was  then 
agreed,  that  the  ofi"ender  should  be  bought  over  with  a  cardinal's 
hat,  and  the  bishop  proceeded  to  Florence  to  open  his  tempta- 
tion. After  the  first  interview  with  this  man,  Savonarola  said, 
"  Come  to  my  sermon  to-morrow,  and  you  shall  have  my  answer." 
On  the  morrow,  the  bishop  was  astounded  with  the  most  vehe- 
ment denunciation  of  the  corruptions  of  the  church.  "  No  other 
red  hat  will  I  have,"  cried  the  preacher,  "than  that  of  martyr- 
dom, coloured  with  my  own  blood."  The  bishop  returned  to 
Rome. 

But  a  reaction  took  place  in  Florence :  the  strength  and  in- 
fluence of  Savonarola's  party  began  to  decline.  Meanwhile,  the 
monk  maintained  a  correspondence  with  the  King  of  France,  in 
which  he  denounced  the  vices  of  the  pope.  One  of  his  letters  fell 
into  Alexander's  hands,  and  the  enraged  pontifi"  cited  its  author 
to  appear  at  Rome.  The  citation  was  veiled  under  a  mask  of  hy- 
pocritical professions,  but  Savonarola  was  prevented  from  obeying 
it  by  sickness.  On  recovering,  he  recommenced  his  denunciation 
of  the  clerical  vices.  His  language  at  this  period  may  remind 
5 


34  LIVES    OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

the  reader  of  Luther's  :  "  Should  the  church  command  any  thing 
against  the  law  of  love,  then  say  I,  Thou  art  not  tlie  Roman 
church,  nor  a  shepherd  of  the  same,  but  a  man,  and  dost  err." 
In  1496,  he  received  a  command  to  abstain  from  preaching,  but 
at  request  of  the  signory  this  was  disobeyed.  The  pope  accused 
him  of  destructive  doctrines  ;  Savonarola  denied  the  accusation, 
and  boldly  addressed  letters  to  the  sovereigns  of  Germany, 
France,  Spain,  Hungary,  and  England,  requesting  them  to  call 
tt  general  council.  Alexander  ordered  the  signory  of  Florence 
to  deliver  to  him  the  son  of  blasphemy ;  they  respectfully  replied, 
that  the  reports  which  his  holiness  had  received  concerning  their 
preacher  were  false  and  calumnious. 

But  a  great  change  was  at  hand :  Savonarola's  friends  lost 
influence  daily,  and  a  signory  was  elected  which  was  decidedly 
opposed  to  him.  Several  times  his  life  was  in  danger,  and  at 
length  he  was  prohibited  from  preaching.  The  pope  hailed  these 
glad  tidings  with  exultation;  and  on  the  12th  of  May,  1497,  ex 
communicated  his  inflexible  opponent ;  but  the  brief,  directing  the 
sentence  to  be  executed,  could  not  be  carried  into  efi"ect.  Savo- 
narola again  mounted  the  pulpit ;  crowds  flocked  to  hear  him ; 
they  were  excommunicated  by  the  archbishop,  and  at  length 
Florence  was  laid  under  the  popish  interdict. 

At  length,  harassed  and  calumniated  on  every  side,  Savona- 
rola decided  upon  a  step  which  throws  a  shadow  over  the  hitherto 
bright  history  of  his  career.  Francesco  di  Puglia  challenged 
him  to  prove  his  doctrine  by  the  ordeal  of  fire.  A  Dominican 
named  Prescia  accepted  the  challenge,  to  the  performance  of 
which  Savonarola  agreed.  Puglia,  scorning  to  compete  with  any 
other  than  the  "  arch-heretic,"  named  Giuliano  Rondinelli  as  his 
champion.  The  7th  of  April,  1798,  Avas  appointed  for  the  trial. 
Amid  a  vast  crowd,  the  Dominicans  approached  the  pile,  headed 
by  Savonarola,  whose  powerful  voice  led  their  favourite  chant, 
the  sixty-eighth  psalm.  The  Franciscans  followed  their  cham- 
pion, barefoot  and  in  silence.  When  the  excitement  of  the 
bystanders  was  at  its  highest  pitch,  an  unexpected  difficulty  arose. 
Prescia  insisted  on  entering  the  fire  with  the  host  in  his  hand: 
the  Franciscans  loudly  declared  that  it  would  be  subjecting 
God  to  flames.  During  a  violent  dispute  upon  this  point,  a  heavy 
Btorm  deluged  the  pile  with  water,  and  drove  the  bystanders  to 
their  houses.     The  people,  infuriated  by  thus  losing  their  sport. 


GIROLAMO    SAVONAROLA.  35 

accused  Savonarola  of  crime,  stormed  his  house,  and  dragged 
his  champion  and  himself  to  prison.  A  court  of  sixteen  judges 
of  inquiry,  and  two  commissioners  from  Eome,  was  appointed 
to  try  him.  During  a  long  examination,  Savonarola  resolute- 
ly defended  his  conduct,  but  was  afterwards  subjected  to  torture. 
Although  no  confession  was  elucidated,  a  protocol  of  his  answers 
was  forged  and  published.  The  reformer,  with  his  brethren 
Dominico  and  Sylvestro,  were  condemned  to  be  hanged  and 
burned.  The  sentence  was  executed  on  the  23d  of  May.  Savo- 
narola met  his  fate  as  became  a  martyr  to  Christian  truth. 
When  the  bishop,  taking  him  by  the  hand,  said,  "I  separate 
thee  from  the  church  triumphant,"  he  replied  aloud,  ''From 
the  militant,  but  not  from  the  triumphant ;  that  thou  canst  not 
do."  When  asked  if  he  went  composedly  to  meet  death,  he 
answered,  "  Should  I  not  willingly  die  for  His  sake  who  willingly 
died  for  me,  a  sinful  man  ?"  In  a  few  moments  he  was  launched 
into  eternity,  and  his  ashes  were  afterwards  thrown  into  the 
Arno. 


36 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 


JOHN  CRAIG. 


EW  narratives  are  more  interesting  than  the 
biography,  imperfect  and  disconnected  as  it  is, 
of  the  Scotch  Dominican,  John  Craig.  He 
was  born  in  1512,  during  the  prosperous  reign 
of  King  James  IV.  His  father  perished  with 
that  monarch  on  the  disastrous  field  of  Flodden, 
leaving  his  boy  exposed  to  the  calamities,  which, 
subsequently  to  the  immediate  effects  of  that  bat- 
tle, attended  the  long  minority  of  James  V.  But  he 
gave  early  promise  of  great  abilities ;  and  at  an  age 
<IW  when  the  youth  of  more  favoured  countries  are  usually 
engaged  in  frivolity  or  dissipation,  the  future  preachei 
had  mastered  the  chief  acquirements  which  then  at- 
tracted the  study  of  scholars.  At  that  time  no  work 
exercised  a  greater  influence  upon  the  public  mind  than 
those  satires  of  Sir  David  Lindsay,  in  which  he  exposes  the 
errors  of  the  Romish  church.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that 
Craig  was  acquainted  with  these  satires  from  the  time  of  their 
publication  ;  and  perhaps  tc  them  he  owed  that  early  weakness 
of  faith  in  the  papal  creed  which  afterwards  changed  to  firm 
opposition. 

After  studying  at  St.  Andrew's  University,  Craig  repaired  to 
England,  where  he  became  tutor  in  the  family  of  Lord  Dacre. 
War  ensuing  between  England  and  Scotland,  he  returned  to  hi 
native  country,  and  soon  after  assumed  the  clerical  profession, 
for  which,  according  to  the  then  prevalent  belief,  his  previous 
studies  had  fitted  him.  He  seems  to  have  joined  the  Domini- 
cans in  order  to  find,  amid  the  seclusion  of  the  cloister,  that 
peace  and  consolation  which  could  not  be  found  in  the  world. 
He  was  disappointed.  The  monastery  of  the  sixteenth  century 
was  no  home  cf  consolation  to  the  soul  sick  of  sin.  His  inqui- 
ries after  truth  excited  suspicion,  and  being  accused  of  heresy, 


JOHN  CRAIG.  37 

he  was  thrown  into  prison.  This  event  is  less  remarkable  than 
that  he  should  afterwards  have  succeeded  in  clearing  himself  of 
the  charge.  In  1537,  he  returned  to  England;  but  being  disap- 
pointed in  an  effort  to  procure  a  situation  at  Cambridge,  he  jour- 
neyed to  Paris.  We  next  find  him  in  Italy,  where,  through  the 
recommendation  of  his  English  patron.  Lord  Dacres,  he  was 
favourably  received  by  Cardinal  Pole,  and  appointed  to  an  honour- 
able office  in  the  Dominican  monastery  at  Bologna.  In  instruct- 
ing the  novices  of  the  cloister,  he  gave  such  general  satisfaction 
that  he  was  afterwards  employed  in  various  ecclesiastical  missions 
to  different  parts  of  the  continent.  It  was  on  returning  from 
one  of  these,  that  an  incident  occurred  which  forms  the  turning 
point  in  his  career.  He  had  been  advanced  to  the  rectorate, 
and  while  examining  the  library  connected  with  that  office,  he 
discovered  a  copy  of  Calvin's  Institutes.  Its  perusal  revived 
all  his  early  doubts,  and  resulted  in  a  determination  to  renounce 
the  Romish  faith,  and  embrace  that  of  the  reformers. 

And  now  Craig  commenced  a  new  life — one  of  peril  and  suffer- 
ing, of  high  resolves,  glorious  triumphs,  and  romantic  adventures. 
He  began  at  once  to  disclose  his  sentiments  to  others.  Whon 
warned  of  danger,  he  referred  to  the  text,  "  He  that  denieth  me 
before  men,  him  will  I  deny  before  my  Father  which  is  in  hea- 
ven." Among  the  Dominicans  was  an  aged  monk,  who,  like  him- 
self, had  wandered  friendlessly  from  Scotland  to  Italy.  The 
old  man  felt  for  him  that  deep  affection  for  which  his  country- 
men are  remarkable.  Probably,  like  Craig,  he  had  discover- 
ed a  brighter  faith  than  that  of  Rome  ;  and  he  now  urged  his 
young  companion  to  quit  the  monastery,  and  return  to  some 
Protestant  country,  where  he  might  cherish  his  belief,  free  from 
the  terrors  of  the  Inquisition.  Craig  followed  this  advice  so 
far  as  to  leave  the  convent ;  but  he  remained  in  Italy,  and  soon 
afterwards  became  tutor  in  the  family  of  a  nobleman,  who  had 
embraced  religious  opinions  similar  to  his  own.  They  studied 
the  Scriptures  together,  with  a  zeal  which  shortly  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  inquisitors.  In  the  age  of  Paul  IV.  such  con- 
duct could  not  be  tolerated,  and  the  two  friends  were  speedily 
dragged  to  Rome  on  a  charge  of  heresy. :  What  became  of  the 
nobleman  i^  not  known.  Cr.aig  was  thrown  into  a  dungeon,  and 
after  languishing  there  for  nine  months,  was  brought  before  the 
tribunal  of  the  Inquisition.     Imprisonment  had  not  daunted  his 

D 


38  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

spirit;  he  made  a  bold  confession  of  his  faith,  and  was  condemn 
ed,  with  several  others,  to  be  burned  at  the  stake. 

The  19th  of  August,  1559,  was  appointed  for  the  execution ; 
but  by  a  series  of  wonderful  and  unlooked-for  events,  Providence 
defeated  the  malice  of  the  Inquisition,  and  restored  his  servant 
to  liberty  and  usefulness.  At  the  time  of  Craig's  imprisonment, 
the  pontifical  chair  was  occupied  by  Cardinal  Gianpietro  Ca- 
raffa,  Paul  IV.,  who  may  not  inaptly  be  regarded  as  the  imper- 
sonation of  blind,  relentless  bigotry.  Though  approaching  his 
eightieth  year,  his  eye  burned  with  the  fire  of  youth,  and  his 
spare  limbs  moved  with  an  elasticity  which  seemed  to  set  old  age 
at  defiance.  He  was  described  as  ''  a  loitering  hypocrite,  who 
makes  matter  of  religious  conscience  of  peppering  a  thistle." 
Ilis  foreign  politics  consisted  in  wars  and  wranglings  with  neigh- 
bouring princes ;  and  his  domestic,  in  imprisonments,  excommu- 
nications, and  autos-da-fe.  When  the  dispensation  of  mercy 
depended  on  the  will  of  such  a  man,  oflenders  bad  little  mercy 
to  expect,  and  the  poor  Scotch  Dominican  was  preparing  him- 
self for  death  as  he  best  could.  He  had  languished  on  to  the 
last  day  of  his  imprisonment,  when  the  event  already  mentioned 
occurred.  He  whose  wickedness  of  heart  was  steeled  to  invinci- 
bility suddenly  yielded  to  one  more  obstinate  than  he.  While 
commending  to  the  College  of  Cardinals  the  Holy  See,  and 
the  Inquisition  which  he  had  restored,  the  pope  suddenly 
fell  back  and  expired.  No  sooner  was  the  news  announced, 
then  those  feelings  of  hatred  and  revenge,  produced  by  long 
oppression,  burst  forth  with  resistless  fury.  The  people  gather- 
ed in  crowds,  broke  in  pieces  his  statue,  and  dragged  the  head 
through  the  streets.  The  prisons  were  broken  open,  the  con- 
vents assaulted,  the  buildings  of  the  Inquisition  fired,  their 
jailers  maltreated,  and  their  prisoners  liberated.  Amid  the 
confusion,  Craig  passed  unnoticed  through  the  city,  and  set 
out  for  Bologna.  But  scarcely  had  he  left  Rome  when  he  was 
seized  by  a  company  of  banditti,  who,  enraged  at  not  obtaining 
a  purse  of  gold,  resolved  to  drag  him  back  to  the  Inquisition. 
His  feelings  at  this  moment  may  be  imagined.  He  was  saved  by 
a  circumstance  at  once  pleasing  and  curious.  The  leader  of  the 
band,  after  gazing  on  him  for  some  time,  took  him  aside,  and  asked 
if  he  had  ever  been  at  Bologna,  and  if  he  remembered  having 
once  administered  relief  there  to  a  poor  maimed  soldier.     Craig 


JOHN  CRAIG.  39 

had  forgotten.  "  I  have  not,"  replied  the  robber  '-I  am  that 
soldier,  and  am  glad  to  have  it  now  in  my  power  to  return  the 
kindness  which  you  showed  to  a  distressed  stranger."  The  monk 
was  immediately  set  at  liberty,  and  supplied  with  money  for  his 
journey  to  Bologna. 

Craig  found  at  Bologna  the  relatives  of  his  former  noble  friend ; 
but  they  shrank  from  him  with  alarm,  and,  as  he  supposed,  re- 
solved to  surrender  him  to  the  Inquisition.  He  immediately 
set  out  for  Milan.  His  money  being  exhausted,  he  was  obliged 
to  support  life  by  such  food  as  he  could  gather  by  the  way,  and 
was  more  than  once  in  danger  of  starving.  The  manner  in 
which  he  was  relieved  is  worthy  of  narration,  since  to  the  be- 
lieving mind  it  may  perhaps  evince,  that  a  belief  in  special  inter- 
positions of  God's  favour  is  not  unsupported  by  historical  evidence. 
One  day,  exhausted  by  fatigue  and  suffering,  he  threw  himself 
upon  the  ground  and  resigned  himself  to  the  bitterest  reflec- 
tions. Suddenly,  from  a  neighbouring  wood  a  dog  approached, 
holding  in  his  teeth  a  purse  of  money.  Being  at  first  suspicious 
of  some  stratagem,  Craig  endeavored  to  drive  the  animal  away, 
but  as  it  continued  to  fawn  upon  him  he  at  length  took  the  purse, 
and  found  in  it  money  sufficient  to  enable  him  to  prosecute  his  jour- 
ney. He  at  length  reached  Vienna,  assumed  the  Dominican 
dress,  and  from  the  pulpit  vindicated,  fearlessly,  the  truths  for 
which  he  had  suffered. 

Craig's  reputation  as  a  preacher  spread  rapidly,  numbers  flocked 
to  hear  him,  and  the  rumour  of  his  eloquence  having  reached 
the  emperor  Maximilian  II.,  that  monarch  expressed  a  desire 
to  hear  him.  The  monk  soon  became  a  favourite  at  court,  but  his 
reputation  reaching  the  ears  of  the  Italian  inquisitors,  they  per- 
suaded Pope  Pius  IV.  to  demand  him  of  the  emperor.  Maxi- 
milian acted  as  a  friend  and  benefactor  should  act.  He  refused 
to  deliver  the  monk  to  his  enemies,  showed  him  the  pope's  letter, 
and  after  furnishing  him  with  a  safe-conduct  out  of  Germany, 
dismissed  him  with  flattering  wishes  for  his  welfare.  Craig  di- 
rected his  course  toward  England,  where  he  arrived  in  1560, 
but  hearing  of  the  reformation  which  had  taken  place  in  his 
native  country,  he  decided  upon  returning  thither. 

Once  more,  amid  the  scenes  of  his  childhood,  this  good  man 
devoted  to  the  cause  of  heaven  all  the  energy  and  experience 
which  years  of  checkered  adventure  had  enabled  him  to  acquire 


40  LIVES   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

He  was  appointed  (1561)  as  the  colleague  of  Knox,  in  the  parisl 
church  of  Edinburgh,  and  from  that  time  took  a  leading 
share  in  the  events  connected  with  the  early  history  of  the 
Church  of  Scotland.  His  refusal  to  officiate  at  the  marriage 
ceremony  of  the  unfortunate  Queen  Mary  with  the  Earl  ot 
Bothwell  shows,  that  in  the  performance  of  duty,  he  could  no 
more  be  swayed  by  the  smile  of  favour  than  by  the  frown  of 
adversity.  In  1584,  an  act  of  parliament  ordered  that  "all 
ministers,  masters  of  colleges,  &c.  should,  within  forty-eight 
hours,  appear  and  subscribe  the  act  of  parliament  concerning 
the  king's  power  over  all  estates  spiritual  and  temporal,  and 
submit  themselves  to  the  bishops,  &c."  Craig  opposed  it.  On 
being  asked,  before  the  council,  how  he  could  be  so  bold  as  to 
controvert  an  act  of  parliament,  Craig  answered,  that  he  would 
find  fault  with  any  thing  repugnant  to  God's  word.  He  was 
dismissed  from  the  ministry,  but  when  his  successor  the  Bishop 
of  St.  Andrews  entered  St.  Giles's  church  at  Edinburgh,  the  whole 
congregation  arose  and  retired.  Craig  was  accordingly  restored. 
In  1579,  Craig  was  appointed  chaplain  to  King  James  VI. 
While  filling  this  station  he  compiled  part  of  the  Second  Book  of 
Discipline,  and  in  1580  wrote  the  National  Covenant,  which  after- 
wards exercised  so  mighty  an  influence  over  the  destinies  of  his 
country.  His  name  appears  at  this  period  in  nearly  every  import- 
ant proceeding  of  the  Church.  In  the  Assemblies,  he  was  gene- 
rally one  of  the  few  leading  men,  chosen  for  arranging  any 
subject  relative  to  the  doctrines  of  the  Reformation.  In  1591, 
his  public  labours  were  closed,  by  his  resigning  his  office  in  the 
king's  household.  His  death  occurred  December  4,  1600,  in 
the  eighty-eighth  year  of  his  age.  His  lot  had  fallen  in  perilous 
times.  Born  when  James  IV.  was  mustering  his  clans  against 
England,  he  had  lived  under  four  sovereigns,  to  witness,  after 
a  series  of  unexpected  events,  the  grandson  of  James  IV. 
waiting  with  impatience  the  death  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  which 
was  to  unite  two  great  kingdoms  into  one.  The  young  Domini- 
can, who  had  left  his  native  land  under  a  suspicion  of  heresy 
against  the  then  dominant  Church  of  Rome,  lived  to  return  and 
take  a  place  among  the  pastors  of  a  Protestant  people,  and  to 
fill  the  office  of  royal  chaplain  to  a  Protestant  king. 


DESIDERIUS  ERASMUS 


41 


DESIDERIUS  ERASMUS. 


ESIDERIUS  ERASMUS  was  born  at  Rotter- 
dam, on  the  28th  of  October,  1467.  The 
irregular  lives  of  his  parents  are  related  by 
•him  in  a  letter  to  the  secretary  of  Pope  Julius 
II.  It  is  sufficient  to  state  here,  that  this 
great  genius  and  restorer  of  letters  was  not 
born  in  wedlock.  His  unsophisticated  name, 
as  well  as  that  of  his  father,  was  Gerard.  This 
word  in  the  Dutch  language  means  amiable. 
According  to  the  affectation  of  the  period,  he 
translated  it  into  the  Latin  term,  Desiderius,  and 
superadded  the  Greek  synonyme  of  Erasmus.  Late 
in  a  life  of  vicissitude  and  turmoil,  he  found  leisure 
from  greater  evils  to  lament  that  he  had  been  so  neg- 
lectful of  grammatical  accuracy  as  to  call  himself 
Erasmus,  and  not  Erasmius. 
In  a  passage  of  the  life  written  by  himself,  he  sa.ys  that  "in 
his  early  years  he  made  but  little  progress  in  those  unpleasant 
studies  to  which  he  was  not  born ;"  and  this  gave  his  country- 
men a  notion  that  as  a  boy  he  was  slow  of  understanding. 
Hereon  Bayle  observes  that  those  unpleasant  studies  cannot 
mean  learning  in  general,  for  which  of  all  men  he  was  born ; 
but  that  the  expression  might  apply  to  music,  as  he  was  a  cho- 
rister in  the  cathedral  church  of  Utrecht.  He  was  afterwards 
sent  to  one  of  the  best  schools  in  the  Netherlands,  where  his 
talents  at  once  shone  forth,  and  were  duly  appreciated.  His 
master  was  so  well  satisfied  with  his  progress,  and  so  thoroughly 
convinced  of  his  great  abilities,  as  to  have  foretold  what  the 
event  confirmed,  that  he  would  prove  the  envy  and  wonder  of 
all  Germany. 

At  the  age  of  fourteen  Erasmus  was  removed  from  the  school 
at  D^enter,  in  consequence  of  the  plague,  of  which  his  mother 


42  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

died,  and  his  father  did  not  long  survive  her.  With  a  view  to 
possess  themselves  of  his  patrimony,  his  guardians  sent  him  to 
three  several  convents  in  succession.  At  length,  unable  longer 
to  sustain  the  conflict,  he  reluctantly  entered  among  the  regular 
canons  at  Stein,  near  Tergou,  in  1486.  Much  condescension  to 
his  peculiar  humour  was  shown  in  dispensing  with  established  laws 
and  customary  ceremonies :  but  he  was  principally  led  to  make 
his  profession  by  the  arts  of  his  guardians  and  the  dilapidation 
of  his  fortune.  He  describes  monasteries,  and  his  own  in  par- 
ticular, as  destitute  of  learning  and  sound  religion.  "  They  are 
places  of  impiety,"  he  says  in  his  piece  '  De  Contemptu  Mundi,' 
<<  where  every  thing  is  done  to  which  a  depraved  inclination  can 
lead,  under  the  mask  of  religion ;  it  is  hardly  possible  for  any 
one  to  keep  himself  pure  and  unspotted."  Julius  Scaliger  and 
his  other  enemies  assert  that  he  himself  was  deeply  tainted  by 
these  impurities;  but  both  himself  and  his  friends  deny  the 
charge. 

He  escaped  from  the  cloister  in  consequence  of  the  accuracy 
with  which  he  could  speak  and  write  Latin.  This  rare  accom- 
plishment introduced  him  to  the  Bishop  of  Cambray,  with  whom 
he  lived  till  1490.  He  then  took  pupils,  among  whom  was  the 
Lord  Mountjoy,  with  several  other  noble  Englishmen.  He  says 
of  himself,  that  "he  lived  rather  than  studied"  at  Paris,  where 
he  had  no  books,  and  often  wanted  the  common  comforts  of  life. 
Bad  lodgings  and  bad  diet  permanently  impaired  his  constitu- 
tion, which  had  been  a  very  strong  one.  The  plague  drove  him 
from  the  capital  before  he  could  profit  as  he  wished  by  the  in- 
structions of  the  university  in  theology. 

Some  time  after  he  left  Paris,  Erasmus  came  over  to  England, 
and  resided  in  Oxford,  where  he  contracted  friendship  with  all 
of  any  note  in  literature.  In  a  letter  from  London  to  a  friend 
in  Italy,  he  says,  "  What  is  it,  you  will  say,  which  captivates 
you  so  much  in  England  ?  It  is  that  I  have  found  a  pleasant 
and  salubrious  air ;  I  have  met  with  humanity,  politeness,  and 
learning;  learning  not  trite  and  superficial,  but  deep  and 
accurate ;  true  old  Greek  and  Latin  learning ;  and  withal  so 
much  of  it,  that,  but  for  mere  curiosity,  I  have  no  occasion  to 
visit  Italy.  When  Colet  discourses,  I  seem  to  hear  Plato  him- 
self. In  Grocyn,  I  admire  a  universal  compass  of  learning. 
Linacre*s  acuteness,  depth,  and  accuracy  are  not  to  be  exceeded; 


DESIDERIUS  ERASMUS.  43 

nor  did  nature  ever  form  any  thing  more  elegant,  exqviisit.^,  and 
accomplished  than  More." 

On  leaving  England,  Erasmus  had  a  fever  at  Orleans,  which 
recurred  every  Lent  for  five  years  together.  He  tells  us  that 
St.  Genevieve  interceded  for  his  recovery ;  but  not  without  the 
help  of  a  good  physician.  At  this  time  he  was  applying  dili- 
gently to  the  study  of  Greek.  He  says,  that  if  he  could  but 
get  some  money,  he  would  first  buy  Greek  books,  and  then 
clothes.  His  mode  of  acquiring  the  language  was  by  making 
translations  from  Lucian,  Plutarch,  and  other  authors.  Many 
of  these  translations  appear  in  his  works,  and  answered  a  double 
purpose;  for  while  they  familiarized  him  with  the  language,  the 
sentiments,  and  the  philosophy  of  the  originals,  they  also  fur- 
nished him  with  happy  trains  of  thought  and  expression,  when 
he  dedicated  his  editions  of  the  Fathers,  or  his  own  treatises,  to 
his  patrons. 

We  cannot  follow  him  through  his  incessant  journeys  and 
change  of  places  during  the  first  years  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
His  fame  was  spread  over  Europe,  and  his  visits  were  solicited 
by  popes,  crowned  heads,  prelates,  and  nobles ;  but  much  as 
the  great  coveted  his  society,  they  suff"ered  him  to  remain  ex- 
tremely poor.  We  learn  from  his  'Enchiridion  Militis  Chris- 
tiani,'  published  in  1503,  that  he  had  discovered  many  errors  in 
the  Roman  church,  long  before  Luther  appeared.  His  reception 
at  Rome  was  most  flattering  :  his  company  was  courted  both  by 
the  learned  and  by  persons  of  the  first  rank  and  quality.  After 
his  visit  to  Italy,  he  returned  to  England,  which  he  preferred 
to  all  other  countries.  On  his  arrival  he  took  up  his  abode 
with  his  friend  More,  and  within  the  space  of  a  week  wrote  his 
<  Encomium  Moriae,'  the  Praise  of  Folly,  for  their  mutual 
amusement.  The  general  design  is  to  show  that  there  are  fools 
in  all  stations;  and  more  particularly  to  expose  the  court  of 
Rome,  with  no  great  forbearance  towards  the  pope  himself. 
Fisher,  Bishop  of  Rochester,  Chancellor  of  the  University,  and 
Head  of  Queen's  College,  invited  him  to  Cambridge,  where  he 
lived  in  the  lodge,  was  made  Lady  Margaret's  Professor  of 
Divinity,  and  afterwards  Greek  professor.  But  notwithstanding 
these  academical  honours  and  offices,  he  was  still  so  poor  as  to 
apply  with  importunity  to  Colet,  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  for  fifteen 
angels  as  the  price  of  a  dedication       "Erasmus's  Walk"  in  the 


44  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

grounds  of  Queen's  College  still  attests  the  honour  conferred 
on  the  university  by  the  temporary  residence  of  this  great  re- 
river  of  classical  learning. 

On  his  return  to  the  Low  Countries,  he  was  nominated  by 
Charles  of  Austria  to  a  vacant  bishopric  in  Sicily ;  but  the  right 
of  presentation  happened  to  belong  to  the  pope.  Erasmus 
laughed  heartily  at  the  prospect  of  this  incongruous  preferment ; 
and  said  that  as  the  Sicilians  were  merry  fellows,  they  might 
possibly  have  liked  such  a  bishop. 

In  the  year  1516  he  printed  his  edition,  the  first  put  forth  in 
Greek,  of  the  New  Testament.  We  learn  from  his  letters,  that 
there  was  one  college  in  Cambridge  which  would  not  sufi'er  his 
work  to  be  brought  within  its  walls :  but  the  public  voice  spoke 
a  different  language ;  for  it  went  through  three  editions  in  less 
than  twelve  years.  From  1516  to  1526  he  was  employed  in 
publishing  the  works  of  St.  Jerome.  Luther  blamed  him  for 
his  partiality  to  this  father.  He  says,  "  I  prefer  Augustine  to 
Jerome,  as  much  as  Erasmus  prefers  Jerome  to  Augustine.*' 
So  far  as  this  was  a  controversy  of  taste  and  criticism,  the  re- 
storer of  letters  was  likely  to  have  the  better  of  the  argument 
against  the  apostle  of  the  Reformation. 

The  times  were  now  become  tempestuous.  Erasmus  was  of 
a  placid  temper,  and  of  a  timid  character.  He  endeavoured  to 
reconcile  the  conflicting  parties  in  the  church ;  but,  with  that 
infelicity  commonly  attendant  on  mediators,  he  drew  on  himself 
the  anger  of  both.  Churchmen  complained  that  his  censures 
of  the  monks,  of  their  grimaces  and  superstitions,  had  paved 
the  way  for  Luther.  On  the  other  hand,  Erasmus  off*ended  the 
Lutherans,  by  protesting  against  identifying  the  cause  of  litera- 
ture with  that  of  the  Refoi-mation.  He  took  every  opportunity 
of  declaring  his  adherence  to  the  see  of  Rome.  The  monks, 
with  whom  he  waged  continual  war,  would  have  been  better 
pleased  had  he  openly  gone  over  to  the  enemy :  his  caustic 
remarks  would  have  galled  them  less,  proceeding  from  a  Lutheran 
than  from  a  Catholic.  But  his  motives  for  continuing  in  the 
communion  of  the  established  church  are  clearly  indicated  in 
the  following  passage :  "  Wherein  could  I  have  assisted  Luther, 
if  I  had  declared  myself  for  him  and  shared  his  danger  ?  Instead 
of  one  man,  two  would  have  perished.  I  cannot  conceive  what 
he  means  by  writing  with  such  a  spirit :  one  thing  I  know  too 


DESIDERIUS  ERASMUS.  45 

well,  that  he  has  brought  great  odium  on  the  lovers  of  literat'ire. 
He  has  given  many  wholesome  doctrines  and  good  counsels: 
but  I  wish  he  had  not  defeated  the  eifect  of  them  by  his  intole- 
rable faults.  But  even  if  he  had  written  in  the  most  unex- 
ceptionable manner,  I  had  no  inclination  to  die  for  the  sake  of 
truth.  Every  man  has  not  the  courage  necessary  to  make  a 
martyr:  I  am  afraid  that,  if  I  were  put  to  the  trial,  I  should 
imitate  St.  Peter." 

In  1522  he  published  the  works  of  St.  Hilary.  About  the 
same  time  he  published  his  Colloquies.  In  this  work,  among 
the  strokes  of  satire,  he  laughed  at  indulgences,  auricular  con- 
fession, and  eating  fish  on  fast-days.  The  faculty  of  theology 
at  Paris  passed  the  following  censure  on  the  book :  "  The  fasts 
and  abstinences,  of  the  church  are  slighted,  the  sufi'rages  of  the 
holy  virgin  and  of  the  saints  are  derided,  virginity  is  set  below 
matrimony,  Christians  are  discouraged  from  becoming  monks, 
and  grammatical  is  preferred  to  theological  erudition."  Pope 
Paul  III.  had  little  better  to  propose  to  the  cardinals  and 
prelates  commissioned  to  consider  about  the  reform  of  the 
church,  than  that  young  persons  should  not  be  permitted  to 
read  Erasmus's  Colloquies.  Colineus  took  a  hint  from  this 
prohibition:  he  reprinted  them  in  1527,  and  sold  oif  an  im- 
pression of  twenty-four  thousand. 

In  1524  a  rumour  was  spread  abroad  that  Erasmus  was  going 
to  write  against  Luther,  which  produced  the  following  character- 
istic letter  from  the  Great  Reformer :  "  Grace  and  peace  from 
the  Lord  Jesus.  I  shall  not  complain  of  you  for  having  behaved 
yourself  as  a  man  alienated  from  us,  for  the  sake  of  keeping 
fair  with  the  Papists ;  nor  was  I  much  offended  that  in  your 
printed  books,  to  gain  their  favour  or  soften  their  fury,  you 
censured  us  with  too.  much  acrimony.  We  saw  that  the  Lord 
had  not  conferred  on  you  the  discernment,  courage,  and  reso- 
lution to  join  with  us  in  freely  and  openly  opposing  these 
monsters ;  therefore  we  did  not  expect  from  you  what  greatly 
surpasseth  your  strength  and  capacity.  We  have  borne  with 
your  weakness,  and  honoured  that  portion  of  the  gift  of  God 
which  is  in  you  ....  I  never  wished  that,  deserting  your  own 
province,  you  should  come  over  to  our  camp.  You  might  indeed 
have  favoured  us  not  a  little  by  your  wit  and  eloquence :  but  as 
you  have  not  the  courage  requisite,  it  is  safer  for  you  to  serve 


46  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

the  Lord  in  your  own  way.  Only  we  feared  that  our  adversaries 
should  entice  you  to  write  against  us,  in  which  case  necessity 
would  have  constrained  us  to  oppose  you  to  your  face.  I  am 
concerned  that  the  resentment  of  so  many  eminent  persons  of 
your  party  has  been  excited  against  you  :  this  must  have  given 
you  great  uneasiness  ;  for  virtue  like  yours,  mere  human  virtue, 
cannot  raise  a  man  above  being  affected  by  such  trials.  Our 
cause  is  in  no  peril,  although  even  Erasmus  should  attack  it 
with  all  his  might :  so  far  are  we  from  dreading  the  keenest 
strokes  of  his  wit.  On  the  other  hand,  my  dear  Erasmus,  if 
you  duly  reflect  on  your  own  weakness,  you  will  abstain  from 
those  sharp,  spiteful  figures  of  rhetoric,  and  treat  of  subjects 
better  suited  to  your  powers."  Erasmus's  answer  is  not  found 
in  the  collection  of  his  letters ;  but  he  must  have  been  touched 
to  the  quick. 

In  1527  he  published  two  dialogues ;  the  first,  on  "  The  pro- 
nunciation of  the  Greek  and  Latin  Languages  ;"  full  of  learning 
and  curious  research  :  the  second,  entitled  ''  Ciceronianus."  In 
this  lively  piece  he  ridicules  those  Italian  pedants  who  banished 
every  word  or  phrase  unauthorized  by  Cicero.  His  satire, 
however,  is  not  directed  against  Cicero's  style,  but  against  the 
servility  of  mere  imitation.  In  a  subsequent  preface  to  a  new 
edition  of  the  Tusculan  Questions,  lie  almost  canonizes  Cicero, 
both  for  his  matter  and  expression.  Julius  Scaliger  had  launched 
more  than  one  philippic  against  him  for  his  treatment  of  the 
Ciceronians ;  but  he  considered  this  preface  as  a  kind  of  penance 
for  former  blasphemies,  and  admitted  it  as  an  atonement  to  the 
shade  of  the  great  Roman.  Erasmus  had  at  this  time  fixed  his 
residence  at  Basle.  He  was  advancing  in  years,  and  complained 
in-  his  letters  of  poverty  and  sickness.  Pope  Paul  III.,  not- 
withstanding his  Colloquies,  professed  high  regard  for  him,  and 
his  friends  thought  that  he  was  likely  to  obtain  high  perferment. 
Of  this  matter  Erasmus  writes  thus  :  "  The  pope  had  resolved 
to  add  some  learned  men  to  the  college  of  cardinals,  and  I  was 
nained  to  be  one.  But  to  my  promotion  it  was  objected,  that 
my  state  of  health  would  unfit  me  for  that  function,  and  that 
my  income  was  not  sufficient." 

In  the  summer  of  1536  his  state  of  exhaustion  became  alarm- 
ing. His  last  letter  is  dated  June  20,  and  subscribed  thus : 
« Erasmus  Rot.  aegra  manu."     He  died  July  12,  in  the  59th 


DESIDERirS    ERASMUS.  47 

jear  of  his  age,  and  was  buried  in  the  cathedral  of  Basle.  His 
friend  Beatus  Rhenaniis  describes  his  person  and  manners.  He 
was  low  of  stature,  but  not  remarkably  short,  well-shaped,  of  a 
fair  complexion,  gray  eyes,  a  cheerful  countenance,  a  low  yoice, 
and  an  agreeable  utterance.  His  memory  was  tenacious :  he 
was  a  pleasant  companion,  a  constant  friend,  generous  and 
charitable.  Erasmus  had  one  peculiarity,  humorously  noticed 
by  himself;  namely,  that  he  could  not  endure  eyen  the  smell  of 
fish.  On  this  he  obseryed,  that  though  a  good  Catholic  in  other 
respects,  he  had  a  most  heterodox  and  Lutheran  stomach. 

With  many  great  and  good  qualities,  Erasmus  had  obyious 
failings.  Bayle  has  censured  his  irritability  when  attacked  by 
adversaries  ;  his  editor,  Le  Clerc,  condemns  his  lukewarmness 
and  timidity  in  the  business  of  the  Reformation.  Jortin  defends 
him  with  zeal,  and  extenuates  what  he  cannot  defend.  '•  Eras- 
mus was  fiorhtincr  for  his  honour  and  his  life ;  beincr  accused  of 
nothing  less  than  heterodoxy,  impiety,  and  blasphemy,  by  men 
whose  forehead  was  a  rock,  and  whose  tongue  was  a  razor.  To 
be  misrepresented  as  a  pedant  and  a  dunce,  is  no  great  matter; 
for  time  and  truth  put  folly  to  flight :  to  be  accused  of  heresy 
by  bigots,  priests,  politicians,  and  infidels,  is  a  serious  afi'air; 
as  they  know  too  well  who  have  had  the  misfortune  to  feel  the 
efi'ects  of  it."  Dr.  Jortin  here  speaks  with  bitter  fellow-feeling 
for  Erasmus,  as  he  himself  had  been  similarly  attacked  by  the 
high-church  party  of  his  day.  He  goes  on  to  give  his  opinion, 
that  even  for  his  lukewarmness  in  promoting  the  Reformation 
much  may  be  said,  and  with  truth.  '•  Erasmus  was  not  entirely 
free  from  the  prejudices  of  education.  He  had  some  indistinct 
and  confused  notions  about  the  authority  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
which  made  it  not  lawful  to  depart  from  her,  corrupted  as  he 
believed  her  to  be.  He  was  also  much  shocked  by  the  violent 
measures  and  personal  quarrels  of  the  reformers.  Though,  as 
Protestants,  we  are  more  obliged  to  Luther,  Melancthon,  and 
others,  than  to  him,  yet  we  and  all  the  nations  in  Europe  are 
infinitely  indebted  to  Erasmus  for  spending  a  long  and  laborious 
life  in  opposing  ignorance  and  superstition,  and  in  promoting 
literature  and  true  piety."  To  us  his  character  appears  to  be 
strongly  illustrated  by  his  own  declaration,  "  Had  Luther  written 
truly  every  thing  that  he  wrote,  his  seditious  liberty  would 
nevertheless  have  much  displeased  me.     I  would  rather  even 


^g  LIVES  OP  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

err  in  some  matters,  than  contend  for  the  truth  with  the  world 
in  such  a  tumult."  A  zealous  advocate  of  peace  at  all  times, 
it  is  but  just  to  believe  that  he  sincerely  dreaded  the  contests 
sure  to  rise  from  open  schism  in  the  church.  And  it  was  no 
unpardonable  frailty,  if  this  feeling  were  nourished  by  a  tempe- 
rament  which  confessedly  was  not  desirous  of  the  palm  of 
martyrdom. 


SIR   THOMAS   MORE. 


49 


SIR   THOMAS   MORE. 


HIS  great  man  was  born  in  London,  in  the 
year  1480.  His  father  was  Sir  John  More, 
one  of  the  judges  of  the  King's  Bench,  a 
gentleman  of  established  reputation.  He  was 
early  placed  in  the  family  of  Cardinal  Morton, 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  Lord  Chan- 
cellor of  England.  The  sons  of  the  gentry 
were  at  this  time  sent  into  the  families  of  the 
first  nobility  and  leading  statesmen,  on  an 
equivocal  footing;  partly  for  the  finishing  of 
their  education,  and  partly  in  a  menial  capacity. 
The  cardinal  said  more  than  once  to  the  nobility 
who  were  dining  with  him,  "This  boy  waiting  at 
table,  whosoever  lives  to  see  it,  will  one  day  prove  a 
marvellous  man."  His  eminent  patron  was  highly  de- 
lighted with  that  vivacity  and  v/it  which  appeared  in  his 
childhood,  and  did  not  desert  him  on  the  scafi'old.  Plays  were 
performed  in  the  archiepiscopal  household  at  Christmas.  On 
these  occasions  young  More  would  play  the  improvisatore,  and 
introduce  an  extempore  part  of  his  own,  more  amusing  to  the 
spectators  than  all  the  rest  of  the  performance.  In  due  time 
Morton  sent  him  to  Oxford,  where  he  heard  the  lectures  of 
Linacer  and  Grocyn  on  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages.  The 
epigrams  and  translations  printed  in  his  works  evince  his  skill 
in  both.  After  a  regular  course  of  rhetoric,  logic,  and  philoso- 
phy, at  Oxford,  he  removed  to  London,  where  he  became  a  law 
student,  first  in  New  Inn,  and  afterwards  in  Lincoln's  Inn.  He 
gained  considerable  reputation  by  reading  public  lectures  on 
Saint  Augustine,  De  Civitate  Dei,  at  St.  Lawrence's  church  in 
the  Old  Jewry.  The  most  learned  men  in  the  city  of  London 
attended  him ;  among  the  rest  Grocyn,  his  lecturer  in  Greek  at 
Oxford,  and  a  writer  against  the  doctrines  of  Wiclif.  The  object 
7  E 


50  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

of  More's  prolusions  was  not  so  much  to  discuss  points  in  theo- 
logy, as  to  explain  the  precepts  of  moral  philosophy,  and  clear 
up  difficulties  in  history.  For  more  than  three  years  after  this 
he  was  Law-reader  at  Furnival's  Inn.  He  next  removed  to  the 
Charter-house,  where  he  lived  in  devotion  and  prayer ;  and  it 
is  stated  that  from  the  age  of  twenty  he  wore  a  hair-shirt  next 
his  skin.  He  remained  there  about  four  years,  without  taking 
the  vows,  although  he  performed  all  the  spiritual  exercises  of 
the  society,  and  had  a  strong  inclination  to  enter  the  priesthood. 
But  his  spiritual  adviser.  Dr.  Colet,  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  recom- 
mended him  to  adopt  a  different  course.  On  a  visit  to  a  gen- 
tleman of  Essex,  by  name  Colt,  he  was  introduced  to  his  three 
daughters,  and  became  attached  to  the  second,  who  was  the 
handsomest  of  the  family.  But  he  bethought  him  that  it  would 
be  both  a  grief  and  a  scandal  to  the  eldest  to  see  her  younger 
sister  married  before  her.  He  therefore  reconsidered  his  pas- 
sion, and  from  motives  of  pity  prevailed  with  himself  to  be  in 
love  with  the  elder,  or  at  all  events  to  marry  her.  Erasmus 
says  that  she  was  young  and  uneducated,  for  which  her  husband 
liked  her  the  better,  as  being  more  capable  of  conforming  to  his 
own  model  of  a  wife.  He  had  her  instructed  in  literature,  and 
especially  in  music. 

He  continued  his  study  of  the  law  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  but  re- 
sided in  Bucklersbury  after  his  marriage.  His  first  wife  lived 
about  seven  years.  By  her  he  had  three  daughters  and  one 
son ;  and  we  are  informed  by  his  son-in-law.  Roper,  that  he 
brought  them  up  with  the  most  sedulous  attention  to  their  in- 
tellectual and  moral  improvement.  It  was  a  quaint  exhortation 
of  his,  that  they  should  take  virtue  and  learning  for  their  meat, 
and  pleasure  for  their  sauce. 

In  the  latter  part  of  King  Henry  the  Seventh's  time,  and  at 
a  very  early  age.  More  distinguished  himself  in  parliament. 
The  king  had  .demanded  a  subsidy  for  the  marriage  of  his 
eldest  daughter,  who  was  to  be  the  Scottish  queen.  The  de- 
mand was  not  complied  with.  On  being  told  that  his  purpose 
had  been  frustrated  by  the  opposition  of  a  beardless  boy,  Henry 
was  greatly  incensed,  and  determined  on  revenge.  He  knew 
that  the  actual  offender,  not  possessing  any  thing,  could  not 
lose  any  thing ;  he  therefore  devised  a  groundless  charge  against 
the  father,  and  confined  him  to  the  Tower  till  he  had  extorted 


SIR   THOMAS   MORE  ^^ 

a  fine  of  100?.  for  his  alleged  offence.  Fox,  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester, a  privy  councillor,  insidiously  undertook  to  reinstate 
young  More  in  the  king's  favour :  but  the  bishop's  chaplain 
warned  him  not  to  listen  to  any  such  proposals ;  and  gave  a 
pithy  reason  for  the  advice,  highly  illustrative  of  Fox's  real 
character.  "  To  serve  the  king's  purposes,  my  lord  and  master 
will  not  hesitate  to  consent  to  his  own  father's  death."  To 
avoid  evil  consequences,  More  determined  to  go  abroad.  With 
this  view,  he  made  himself  master  of  the  French  language,  and 
cultivated  the  liberal  sciences,  as  astronomy,  geometry,  arith- 
metic, and  music ;  he  also  made  himself  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  history :  but  in  the  mean  time  the  king's  death  rendered 
it  safe  to  remain  in  England,  and  he  abandoned  all  thoughts  of 
foreign  travel. 

Notwithstanding  his  practice  at  the  bar,  and  his  lectures, 
which  were  quoted  by  Lord  Coke  as  undisputed  authority,  he 
found  leisure  for  the  pursuits  of  philosophy  and  polite  literature. 
In  1516  he  wrote  his  Utopia,  the  only  one  of  his  works  which 
has  commanded  much  of  public  attention  in  after  times.  In 
general  they  were  chiefly  of  a  polemic  kind,  in  defence  of  a 
cause  which  even  his  abilities  could  not  make  good.  But  in 
this  extraordinary  work  he  allowed  his  powerful  mind  fair  play, 
and  considered  both  mankind  and  religion  with  the  freedom  of 
a  true  philosopher.  He  represents  Utopia  as  one  of  those 
countries  lately  discovered  in  America,  and  the  account  of  it  is 
feigned  to  be  given  by  a  Portuguese,  who  sailed  in  company 
with  the  first  discoverer  of  that  part  of  the  world.  Under  the 
character  of  this  Portuguese  he  delivers  his  own  opinions.  His 
History  of  Richard  III.  was  never  finished,  but  it  is  inserted 
in  Rennet's  Complete  Historj  of  England.  Among  his  other 
eminent  acquaintance,  he  was  particularly  attached  to  Erasmus. 
They  had  long  corresponded  before  they  w^ere  personally  known 
to  each  other.  Erasmus  came  to  England  for  the  purpose  of 
seeing  his  friend ;  and  it  was  contrived  that  they  should  meet 
at  the  Lord  Mayor's  table  before  they  were  introduced  to  each 
other.  At  dinner  they  engaged  in  argument.  Erasmus  felt 
the  keenness  of  his  antagonist's  wit;  and,  when  hard  pressed, 
exclaimed,  "You  are  More,  or  nobody;"  the  reply  was,  '^  You 
are  Erasmus,  or  the  Devil." 

Before  More  entered  definitively  into  the  service  of  Henry 


52  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 

VIII.,  his  learning,  wisdom,  and  experience  were  held  in  such 
high  estimation,  that  he  was  twice  sent  on  important  commercial 
embassies.  His  discretion  in  those  employments  made  the  king 
desirous  of  securing  him  for  the  service  of  the  court ;  and  he 
commissioned  Wolsey,  then  Lord  Chancellor,  to  engage  him. 
But  so  little  inclined  was  he  to  involve  himself  in  political  in- 
trigues, that  the  king's  wish  was  not  at  the  time  accomplished. 
Soon  after,  More  was  retained  as  counsel  for  the  pope,  for  the 
purpose  of  reclaiming  the  forfeiture  of  a  ship.  His  argument 
was  so  learned,  and  his  conduct  in  the  cause  so  judicious  and 
upright,  that  the  ship  was  restored.  The  king  upon  this  insisted 
on  having  him  in  his  service ;  and,  as  the  first  step  to  prefer- 
ment, made  him  Master  of  the  Requests,  a  Knight,  and  Privy 
Councillor. 

In  1520  he  was  made  Treasurer  of  the  Exchequer :  he  then 
bought  a  house  by  the  river-side  at  Chelsea,  where  he  had 
settled  with  his  family.  He  had  at  that  time  buried  his  first 
wife  and  was  married  to  a  second.  He  continued  in  the  king's 
service  full  twenty  years,  during  which  time  his  royal  master 
conferred  with  him  on  various  subjects,  including  astronomy, 
geometry,  and  divinity;  and  frequently  consulted  him  on  his 
private  concerns.  More's  pleasant  temper  and  witty  conversa- 
tion made  him  such  a  favourite  at  the  palace  as  almost  to 
estrange  him  from  his  own  family;  and  under  these  circum- 
stances his  peculiar  humour  manifested  itself;  for  he  so  re- 
strained the  natural  bias  of  his  freedom  and  mirth  as  to  render 
himself  a  less  amusing  companion,  and  at  length  to  be  seldom 
sent  for  but  on  occasions  of  business. 

A  more  important  circumstance  gave  More  much  consequence 
with  the  king.  The  latter  was  preparing  his  answer  to  Luther, 
and  Sir  Thomas  assisted  him  in  the  controversy.  While  this 
was'  going  on,  the  king  one  day  came  to  dine  with  him  ;  and 
after  dinner  walked  with  him  in  the  garden  with  his  arm  round 
his  neck.  After  Henry's  departure,  Mr.  Roper,  Sir  Thomas's 
son-in-law,  remarked  on  the  king's  familiarity,  as  exceeding 
even  that  used  towards  Cardinal  Wolsey,  with  -whom  he  had 
only  once  been  seen  to  walk  arm  in  arm.  The  answer  of  Sir 
Thomas  was  shrewd  and  almost  prophetic.  ''I  find  his  grace 
my  very  good  lord  indeed,  and  I  believe  he  doth  as  singularly 
favour  me  as  any  subject  within  this  realm.     However,  Son 


SIR   THOMAS   MORE.  53 

Roper,  I  may  tell  thee,  I  have  no  cause  to  be  proud  thereof; 
for  if  my  head  would  win  him  a  castle  in  France,  it  should  not 
fail  to  go." 

In  1523  he  was  chosen  speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
and  displayed  great  intrepidity  in  the  discharge  of  that  office. 
Wolsey  was  afraid  lest  this  parliament  should  refuse  a  great 
subsidy  about  to  be  demanded,  and  announced  his  intention  of 
being  present  at  the  debate.  He  had  previously  expressed  his 
indignation  at  the  publicity  given  to  the  proceedings  of  the 
house,  which  he  had  compared  to  the  gossip  of  an  ale-house. 
Sir  Thomas  More  therefore  persuaded  the  members  to  admit 
not  only  the  cardinal,  but  all  his  pomp;  his  maces,  poll-axes, 
crosses,  hat,  and  great  seal.  The  reason  he  assigned  was,  that, 
should  the  like  fault  be  imputed  to  them  hereafter,  they  might 
be  able  to  shift  the  blame  on  the  shoulders  of  his  grace's  attend- 
ants. The  proposal  of  the  subsidy  was  met  with  the  negative 
of  profound  silence;  and  the  speaker  declared  that,  "except 
every  member  could  put  into  his  one  head  all  their  several  wits, 
he  alone  in  so  weighty  a  matter  was  unmeet  to  make  his  grace 
answer."  After  the  parliament  had  broken  up,  Wolsey  ex- 
pressed his  displeasure  against  the  speaker  in  his  own  gallery 
at  Whitehall ;  but  More,  with  his  usual  quiet  humour,  parried 
the  attack  by  a  ready  compliment  to  the  taste  and  splendour  of 
the  room  in  which  they  were  conversing. 

On  the  death  of  Sir  Richard  Wingfield,  the  king  promoted 
Sir  Thomas  to  the  Chancellorship  of  the  Duchy  of  Lancaster. 
At  this  time  the  see  of  Rome  became  vacant,  and  Wolsey  aspired 
to  the  papacy ;  but  Charles  V.  disappointed  him,  and  procured 
the  election  of  Cardinal  Adrian.  In  revenge,  Wolsey  contrived 
to  persuade  Henry  that  Catharine  was  not  his  lawful  wife,  and 
endeavoured  to  turn  his  affections  towards  one  of  the  French 
king's  sisters.  The  case  was  referred  to  More,  who  was  assisted 
by  the  most  learned  of  the  privy  council ;  and  he  managed, 
difficult  as  it  must  have  been  to  do  so,  to  extricate  both  himself 
and  his  colleagues  from  the  dilemma.  His  conduct  as  ambas- 
8ador  at  Cambray,  where  a  treaty  of  peace  was  negotiated 
between  the  emperor,  France,  and  England,  so  confirmed  the 
favour  of  his  master  towards  him,  that  on  the  fall  of  the  cardi- 
nal he  was  made  Lord  Chancellor.  The  great  seal  was  delivered 
to  him  OD   the  25th  of  October,  1530.     This  favour  was  the 

■  2 


54  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIAN? 

more  extraordinary,  as  he  was  the  first  layman  on  whom  it  was 
bestowed :  but  it  may  reasonably  be  suspected  that  the  private 
motive  was  to  engage  him  in  the  approval  of  the  meditated  di- 
vorce. This  he  probably  suspected,  and  entered  on  the  oflfic^e 
with  a  full  knowledge  of  the  danger  to  which  it  exposed  hmi. 
He  performed  the  duties  of  his  function  for  nearly  three  years 
with  exemplary  diligence,  great  ability,  and  uncorrupted  in- 
tegrity. His  resignation  took  place  on  the  16th  of  May,  1533. 
His  motive  was  supposed  to  be  a  regard  to  his  own  safety,  as  he 
was  sensible  that  a  confirmation  of  the  divorce  would  be  oflicially 
required  fix)m  him,  and  he  was  too  conscientious  to  comply  with 
the  mandate  of  power,  against  his  own  moral  and  legal  convictions. 
While  chancellor,  some  of  his  injunctions  were  disapproved  by 
the  common  law  judges.  He  therefore  invited  them  to  dine 
with  him  in  the  council  chamber,  and  proved  to  them  by  pro- 
fessional arguments  that  their  complaints  were  unfounded.  He 
then  proposed  that  they  should  themselves  mitigate  the  rigour 
of  the  law  by  their  own  conscientious  discretion  ;  in  which  case, 
he  would  grant  no  more  injunctions.  This  they  refused ;  and 
the  consequence  was,  that  he  continued  that  practice  in  equity 
which  has  come  down  to  the  present  day. 

It  was  through  the  intervention  of  his  friend  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk  that  he  procured  his  discharge  from  the  laborious,  and, 
under  the  circumstances  of-  the  time,  the  dangerous  eminence 
of  the  chancellorship,  which  he  quitted  in  honourable  poverty. 
After  the  payment  of  his  debts,  he  had  not  the  value  of  one 
hundred  pounds  in  gold  and  silver,  nor  more  than  twenty  marks 
a  year  in  land.  On  this  occasion  his  love  of  a  jest  did  not 
desert  him.  While  chancellor,  as  soon  as  the  church  service 
was  over,  one  of  his  train  used  to  go  to  his  lady's  pew,  and  say, 
"Madam,  my  Lord  is  gone!"  On  the  first  holiday  after  his 
train  had  been  dismissed,  he  performed  that  ceremony  himself, 
and  by  saying  at  the  end  of  the  service,  '•  Madam,  my  Lord  is 
gone,"  gave  his  wife  the  first  intimation  that  he  had  surrendered 
the  great  seal. 

He  had  resolved  never  again  to  engage  in  public  business; 
but  the  divorce,  and  still  more  the  subsequent  marriage  with 
Anne  Boleyn,  which  nothing  could  induce  him  to  favour,  with 
the  king's  alienation  from  the  see  of  Rome,  raised  a  storm  over 
his  head,  from  which  his  voluntary  seclusion  at  Chelsea,  in  study 


SIR   THOMAS   MORE  55 

and  devotion,  could  not  shelter  him.  When  tempting  offers 
proved  ineffectual  to  win  him  over  to  sanction  Anne  Boleyn'a 
coronation  by  his  high  legal  authority,  threats  and  terrors  were 
resorted  to:  his  firmness  was  not  to  be  shaken,  but  his  ruin  was 
determined,  and  ultimately  accomplished.  In  the  next  parlia- 
ment he,  and  his  friend  Fisher,  Bishop  of  Rochester,  were 
attainted  of  treason  and  misprision  of  treason  for  listening  to 
the  ravings  of  Elizabeth  Barton,  considered  by  the  vulgar  as 
the  Holy  Maid  of  Kent,  and  countenancing  her  treasonable 
practices.  His  innocence  was  so  clearly  established  that  his 
name  was  erased  from  the  bill ;  and  it  was  supposed  to  have 
been  introduced  into  it  only  for  the  purpose  of  shaking  his  reso- 
lution touching  the  divorce  and  marriage.  But  though  he  had 
escaped  this  snare,  his  firmness  occasioned  him  to  be  devoted 
as  a  victim.  Anne  Boleyn  took  pains  to  exasperate  the  king 
against  him,  and  when  the  Act  of  Supremacy  was  passed  in 
1534,  the  oath  required  by  it  was  tendered  to  him.  The  refusal 
to  take  it,  which  his  principles  compelled  him  to  give,  was  ex- 
pressed in  discreet  and  qualified  terms;  he  was  nevertheless 
taken  into  the  custody  of  the  Abbot  of  Westminster,  and,  upon 
a  second  refusal  four  days  after,  was  committed  prisoner  to  the 
Tower  of  London. 

Our  limits  will  not  allow  us  to  detail  many  particulars  of  his 
life  while  in  confinement,  marked  as  it  was  by  firmness,  resigna- 
tion, and  cheerfulness,  resulting  from  a  conscience,  however 
much  mistaken,  yet  void  of  intentional  offence.  His  reputation 
and  credit  were  very  great  in  the  kingdom,  and  much  was  sup- 
posed to  depend  on  his  conduct  at  this  critical  juncture.  Arch- 
bishop Cranmer,  therefore,  urged  every  argument  that  could  be 
devised  to  persuade  him  to  compliance,  and  promises  were  pro- 
fusely made  to  him  from  the  king ;  but  neither  argument  nor 
promises  could  prevail.  We  will  give  the  last  of  these  attempts 
to  shake  his  determination,  in  the  words  of  his  son-in-law,  Mr. 
Roper : — 

"Mr.  Rich,  pretending  friendly  talk  with  him,  among  other 
things  of  a  set  course,  said  this  unto  him :  '  Forasmuch  as  it  is 
well  known,  Master  More,  that  you  are  a  man  both  wise  and 
well  learned,  as  well  in  the  laws  of  the  realm  as  otherwise,  I 
pray  you,  therefore,  sir,  let  me  be  so  bold  as  of  good-will  to  put 
unto  you  this  case.         ilmit  there  were,  sir,  an  act  of  parliament 


56  LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

that  the  realm  should  take  me  for  king ;  would  not  you,  Mi 
More,  take  me  for  king?'  'Yes,  sir,'  quoth  Sir  Thomas  More, 
'  that  would  I.'  'I  put  the  case  further,'  quoth  Mr.  Rich,  'that 
there  were  an  act  of  parliament  that  all  the  realm  should  take 
me  .for  pope ;  would  not  you  then,  Master  More,  take  me  for 
pope  ?'  '  For  answer,  sir,'  quoth  Sir  Thomas  More,  '  to  your 
first  case,  the  parliament  may  well,  Master  Rich,  meddle  with 
the  state  of  temporal  princes  ;  but  to  make  answer  to  your  other 
case,  I  will  put  you  this  case.  Suppose  the  parliament  would 
make  a  law  that  God  should  not  be  God ;  would  you  then, 
Master  Rich,  say  that  God  were  not  God  V  '  No  sir,'  quoth  he, 
<that  would  I  not;  sith  no  parliament  may  make  any  such  law.' 
<No  more,'  quoth  Sir  Thomas  More,  *  could  the  parliament  make 
the  king  supreme  head  of  the  church.'  Upon  whose  only  report 
was  Sir  Thomas  indicted  of  high  treason  on  the  statute  to  deny 
the  king  to  be  supreme  head  of  the  Church,  into  which  indict- 
ment were  put  these  heinous  words,  maliciously,  traitorously^ 
and  diaholieally.'' 

Sir  Thomas  More,  in  his  defence,  alleged  many  arguments  to 
the  discredit  of  Rich's  evidence,  and  in  proof  of  the  clearness 
of  his  own  conscience;  but  all  this  was  of  no  avail,  and  the  jury 
found  him  guilty.  When  asked  in  the  usual  manner  why 
judgment  should  not  be  passed  against  him,  he  argued  against 
the  indictment  as  grounded  on  an  act  of  parliament  repugnant 
to  the  laws  of  God  and  the  Church,  the  government  of  which 
belonged  to  the  see  of  Rome,  and  could  not  lawfully  be  assumed 
by  any  temporal  prince.  The  lord  chancellor,  however,  and 
the  other  commissioners,  gave  judgment  against  him. 

He  remained  in  the  Tower  a  week  after  his  sentence,  and 
during  that  time  he  was  uniformly  firm  and  composed,  and  even 
his  peculiar  vein  of  cheerfulness  remained  unimpaired.  It 
accompanied  him  even  to  the  scafi'old,  on  going  up  to  which,  he 
said  to  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  "I  pray  you.  Master  Lieu- 
tenant, see  me  safe  up,  and  for  my  coming  down  let  me  shift 
for  myself."  After  his  prayers  were  ended  he  turned  to  the 
executioner,  and  said,  with  a  cheerful  countenance,  "  Pluck  up 
thy  spirits,  man,  and  be  not  afraid  to  do  thine  office.  My  neck 
is  very  short,  take  heed,  therefore,  thou  strike  not  awry  for 
thine  own  credit's  sake."  Then,  laying  his  head  upon  the 
block,   he  bid  the  executioner  stay  till  he   had  removed  his 


SIR   THOMAS   MORE.  57 

beard,  saying,  "My  beard  has  never  committed  any  treason;" 
and  immediately  the  fatal  blow  was  given.  These  witticisms 
have  so  repeatedly  run  the  gauntlet  through  all  the  jest-books 
that  it  would  hardly  have  been  worth  while  to  repeat  them  here, 
were  it  not  for  the  purpose  of  introducing  the  comment  of  Mr. 
Addison  on  Sir  Thomas's  behaviour  on  this  solemn  occasion. 
"What  was  only  philosophy  in  this  extraordinary  man,  would 
be  frenzy  in  one  who  does  not  resemble  him  as  well  in  the 
cheerfulness  of  his  temper  as  in  the  sanctity  of  his  manners." 

He  was  executed  on  St.  Thomas's  eve,  in  the  year  1535. 
The  barbarous  part  of  the  sentence,  so  disgraceful  to  the  Statute- 
book,  was  remitted.  Lest  serious-minded  persons  should  sup- 
pose that  his  conduct  on  the  scaffold  was  mere  levity,  it  should 
be  added  that  he  addressed  the  people,  desiring  them  to  pray 
for  him,  and  to  bear  witness  that  he  was  going  to  suffer  death 
in  and  for  the  faith  of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church.  The  Empe- 
ror Charles  V.  said,  on  hearing  of  his  execution,  "  Had  we  been 
master  of  such  a  servant,  we  would  rather  have  lost  the  best 
city  of  our  dominions  than  such  a  worthy  councillor." 

No  one  was  more  capable  of  appreciating  the  character  of 
Sir  Thomas  More  than  Erasmus,  who  represents  him  as  more 
pure  and  white  than  the  whitest  snow,  with  such  wit  as  England 
never  had  before,  and  was  never  likely  to  }  ive  again.  He  also 
says,  that  in  theological  discussions  the  most  eminent  divines 
were  not  unfrequently  worsted  by  him  ;  but  he  adds  a  wish  that 
he  had  never  meddled  with  the  subject.  Sir  Thomas  More  was 
peculiarly  happy  in  extempore  speaking,  the  result  of  a  well- 
stored  and  ready  memory,  suggesting  without  delay  whatevei 
the  occasion  required.  Thuanus  also  mentions  him  with  much 
respect,  as  a  man  of  strict  integrity  and  profound  learning. 

His  life  has  been  written  by  his  son-in-law,  Roper,  and  is  the 
principal  source  whence  this  narrative  is  taken.  Erasmus  has 
also  been  consulted,  through  whose  epistolary  works  there  is 
much  information  about  his  friend.  There  is  also  a  life  of  hiin 
by  Ferdinando  Warner,  LL.D.,  with  a  translation  of  his  Utopia, 
in  an  octavo  volume,  published  in  1758. 


68 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


MARTIN  LUTHER. 


'^^fAI^TIN  LUTHER  was  born  at  Eisleben  in 
pk\  Saxony  in  the  year  1483,  on  the  10th  of  No- 
-Pc  ^^^^®^j  ^^^  i^  i^  t^6  histories  of  great  men 
it  is  usual  to  note  with  accuracy  the  day  of 
their  nativity,  that  of  Luther  has  a  peculiar 
claim  on  the  biographer,  since  it  has  been  the 
especial  object  of  horoscopical  calculations,  and 
has  even  occasioned  some  serious  differences- 
among  very  profound  astrologers.  Luther  has 
been  the  subject  of  unqualified  admiration  and 
eulogy :  he  has  been  assailed  by  the  most  virulent 
calumnies ;  and,  if  any  thing  more  were  wanted  to 
p.rove  the  personal  consideration  in  which  he  was  held 
by  his  contemporaries,  it  would  be  sufficient  to  add, 
lat  he  has  also  been  made  a  mask  for  their  follies. 
He  was  of  humble  origin.  At  an  early  age  he  entered 
with  zeal  into  the  order  of  Augustinian  Hermits,  who  were 
monks  and  mendicants.  In  the  schools  of  the  Nominalists  he 
pursued  with  acuteness  and  success  the  science  of  sophistry. 
And  he  was  presently  raised  to  the  theological  chair  at  Wittem- 
berg:  so  that  his  first  prejudices  were  enlisted  in  the  service  of 
the  worst  portion  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  ;  his  opening 
reason  was  subjected  to  the  most  dangerous  perversion  ;  and  a 
sure  and  early  path  was  opened  to  his  professional  ambition. 
Such  was  not  the  discipline  which  could  prepare  the  mind  for 
any  independent  exertion;  such  were  not  the  circumstances 
from  which  an  ordinary  mind  could  have  emerged  into  the  clear 
atmosphere  of  truth.  In  dignity  a  professor,  in  theology  an 
Augustinian,  in  philosophy  a  Nominalist,  by  education  a  mendi- 
cant monk,  Luther  seemed  destined  to  be  a  pillar  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church,  and  a  patron  of  all  its  corruptions. 

But  he  possessed  a  genius  naturally  vast  anil  penetrating,  a 


MARTIN   LUTHER  59 

memory  quick  a/id  tenacious,  patience  inexhaustible,  ind  a  fund 
of  learning  very  considerable  for  that  age:  above  all,  he  had 
an  erect  and  daring  spirit,  fraught  with  magnanimity  and 
grandeur,  and  loving  nothing  so  well  as  truth;  so  that  his 
understanding  was  ever  prepared  to  expand  with  the  occasion, 
and  his  principles  to  change  or  rise,  according  to  the  increase 
and  elevation  of  his  knowledge.  Nature  had  endued  him  with 
an  ardent  soul,  a  powerful  and  capacious  understanding ;  edu- 
cation had  chilled  the  one  and  contracted  the  other ;  and  when 
he  came  forth  into  the  fields  of  controversy,  he  had  many  of 
those  trammels  still  hanging  about  him,  which  patience,  and  a 
succession  of  exertions,  and  the  excitement  of  dispute,  at  length 
enabled  him  for  the  most  part  to  cast  away. 

In  the  year  1517,  John  Tetzel,  a  Dominican  monk,  was 
preaching  in  Germany  the  indulgences  of  Pope  Leo  X. ;  that 
is,  he  was  publicly  selling  to  all  purchasers  remission  of  all  sins, 
past,  present,  or  future,  however  great  their  number,  however 
enormous  their  nature.  The  expressions  with  which  Tetzel 
recommended  his  treasure  appear  to  have  been  marked  with 
peculiar  impudence  and  indecency.  But  the  act  had  in  itself 
nothing  novel  or  uncommon  :  the  sale  of  indulgences  had  long 
been  recognised  as  the  practice  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
and  even  sometimes  censured  by  its  more  pious,  or  more  prudent 
members.  But  the  crisis  was  at  length  arrived  in  which  the 
iniquity  could  no  longer  be  repeated  with  impunity.  The  cup 
was  at  length  full ;  and  the  hand  of  Luther  was  destined  to  dash 
it  to  the  ground.  In  the  schools  of  Wittemberg  the  professor 
publicly  censured,  in  ninety-five  propositions,  not  only  the  ex- 
tortion of  the  indulgence-mongers,  but  the  co-operation  of  the 
pope  in  seducing  the  people  from  the  true  faith,  and  calling 
them  away  from  the  only  road  to  salvation. 

This  first  act  of  Luther's  evangelical  life  has  been  hastily 
ascribed  by  at  least  three  eminent  writers  of  very  different  de- 
scriptions, (Bossuet,  Hume,  and  Voltaire,)  to  the  narrowest 
monastic  motive,  the  jealousy  of  a  rival  order.  It  is  asserted 
that  the  Augustiaian  friars  had  usually  been  invested  in  Saxony 
with  the  profitable  commission,  and  that  it  only  became  offensive 
to  Luther  when  it  was  transferred  to  a  Dominican.  There  is 
no  ground  for  that  assertion.  The  Dominicans  had  been  for 
nearly  three  centuries  the  peculiar  favourites  of  the  Holy  See, 


60  LIVES    OP  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

and  objects  of  all  its  partialities ;  and  it  is  particularly  remark- 
able, that,  after  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  during  a 
period  scandalously  fruitful  in  the  abuse  in  question,  we  very 
rarely  meet  with  the  name  of  any  Augustinian  as  employed  in 
that  service.  Moreover,  it  is  almost  equally  important  to  add, 
that  none  of  the  contemporary  adversaries  of  Luther  ever  ad- 
vanced the  charge  against  him,  even  at  the  moment  in  which 
the  controversy  was  carried  on  with  the  most  unscrupulous 
rancour. 

The  matter  in  dispute  between  Luther  and  Tetzel  went  in 
the  first  instance  no  farther  than  this — whether  the  pope  had 
authority  to  remit  the  divine  chastisements  denounced  against 
offenders  in  the  present  and  in  a  future  state — or  whether  his 
power  only  extended  to  such  human  punishments  as  form  a 
part  of  ecclesiastical  discipline — for  the  latter  prerogative  was 
not  yet  contested  by  Luther.  Nevertheless,  his  office  and  his 
talents  drew  very  general  attention  to  the  controversy ;  the 
German  people,  harassed  by  the  exactions,  and  disgusted  with 
the  insolence  of  the  papal  emissaries,  declared  themselves  warmly 
in  favour  of  the  reformer;  while  on  the  other  hand,  the  sup- 
porters of  the  abuse  were  so  violent  and  clamorous,  that  the 
sound  of  the  altercation  speedily  disturbed  the  festivities  of  the 
Vatican. 

Leo  X.,  a  luxurious,  indolent,  and  secular,  though  literary 
pontiff,  would  have  disregarded  the  broil,  and  left  it,  like  so 
many  others,  to  subside  of  itself,  had  not  the  Emperor  Maxi- 
milian assured  him  of  the  dangerous  impression  it  had  already 
made  on  the  German  people.  Accordingly,  he  commanded 
Luther  to  appear  at  the  approaching  Diet  of  Augsburg,  and 
justify  himself  before  the  papal  legate.  At  the  same  time  he 
appointed  the  Cardinal  Caietan,  a  Dominican  and  a  professed 
enemy  of  Luther,  to  be  arbiter  of  the  dispute.  They  met  in 
October,  1518  ;  the  legate  was  imperious ;  Luther  was  not  sub- 
missive. He  solicited  reasons ;  he  was  answered  only  with 
authority.  He  left  the  city  in  haste,  and  appealed  "to  the 
pope  letter  informed^'' — yet  it  was  still  to  the  pope  that  he 
appealed;  he  still  recognised  his  sovereign  supremacy.  But  in 
the  following  month,  Leo  published  an  edict,  in  which  he  claimed 
the  power  of  delivering  sinners  from  all  punishments  due  to 
every  sort  of  transgression ;  and  thereupon  Luther,  despairing 


MARTIN   LUTHER.  61 

of  any  reasonable  accommodation  with  the  pontiff,  published  an 
appeal  from  the  pope  to  a  general  council. 

/The  pope  then  saw  the  expediency  of  conciliatory  measures, 
and  accordingly  despatched  a  layman,  named  Miltitz,  as  his 
legate,  with  a  commission  to  compose  the  difference  by  private 
negotiations  with  Luther.  Miltitz  united  great  dexterity  and 
penetration  with  a  temper  naturally  moderate,  and  not  inflamed 
by  ecclesiastical  prejudices.  Luther  was  still  in  the  outset  of 
his  career.  His  opinions  had  not  yet  made  any  great  progress 
towards  maturity ;  he  had  not  fully  ascertained  the  foundations 
on  which  his  principles  were  built ;  he  had  not  proved  by  any 
experience  the  firmness  of  his  own  character.  He  yielded — at 
least  so  far  as  to  express  his  perfect  submission  to  the  commands 
of  the  pope,  to  exhort  his  followers  to  persist  in  the  same  obe- 
dience, and  to  promise  silence  on  the  subject  of  indulgences, 
provided  it  were  also  imposed  upon  his  adversaries. 

It  is  far  too  much  to  say  (as  some  have  said)  that  had  Luther's 
concession  been  carried  into  effect,  the  Reformation  would  have 
been  stifled  in  its  birth.  The  principles  of  the  Reformation 
were  too  firmly  seated  in  reason  and  in  truth,  and  too  deeply  in- 
grafted in  the  hearts  of  the  German  people,  to  remain  long 
suppressed  through  the  infirmity  of  any  individual  advocate. 
But  its  progress  might  have  been  somewhat  retarded,  had  not 
the  violence  of  its  enemies  afforded  it  seasonable  aid.  A  doctor 
named  Eckius,  a  zealous  satellite  of  papacy,  invited  Luther  to 
a  public  disputation  in  the  castle  of  Pleissenburg.  The  subject 
on  which  they  argued  was  the  supremacy  of  the  Roman  pontiff; 
and  it  was  a  substantial  triumph  for  the  reformer,  and  no 
trifling  insult  to  papal  despotism,  that  the  appointed  arbiters 
left  the  question  undecided. 

Eckius  repaired  to  Rome,  and  appealed  in  person  to  the 
offended  authority  of  the  Vatican.  His  remonstrances  were 
reiterated  and  inflamed  by  the  furious  zeal  of  the  Dominicans, 
with  Caietan  at  their  head.  And  thus  Pope  Leo,  whose  calmer 
and  more  indifferent  judgment  would  probably  have  led  him  to 
accept  the  submission  of  Luther,  and  thus  put  the  question  for 
the  moment  at  rest,  was  urged  into  measures  of  at  least  un- 
seasonable rigour.  He  published  a  bull  on  the  15th  of  June, 
1520,  in  Avhich  he  solemnly  condemned  forty-one  heresies  ex- 
tracted from  the  writings  of  the  reformer,  and  condemned  thes 


62  LIVES   01    EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

to  be  publicly  burnt.  At  the  same  time  he  summoned  the 
author,  on  pain  of  excommunication,  to  confess  and  retract  his 
pretended  errors  Avithin  the  space  of  sixty  days,  and  to  throw 
himself  upon  the  mercy  of  the  Vatican. 

Open  to  the  influence  of  mildness  and  persuasion,  the  breast 
of  Luther  only  swelled  more  boldly  when  he  was  assailed  by 
menace  and  insult.  He  refused  the  act  of  humiliation  required 
of  him  ;  more  than  that,  he  determined  to  anticipate  the  anathe- 
ma suspended  over  him,  by  at  once  withdrawing  himself  from 
the  communion  of  the  church ;  and  again,  having  come  to  that 
resolution,  he  fixed  upon  the  manner  best  suited  to  give  it  effi- 
cacy and  publicity.  With  this  view,  he  caused  a  pile  of  wood 
to  be  erected  without  the  walls  of  Wittemberg,  and  there,  in 
the  presence  of  a  vast  multitude  of  all  ranks  and  orders,  he 
committed  the  bull  to  the  flames;  and  with  it,  the  decree,  the 
decretals,  the  Clementines,  the  extravagants,  the  entire  code 
of  Romish  jurisprudence.  It  is  necessary  to  observe,  that  he 
had  prefaced  this  measure  by  a  renewal  of  his  former  appeal  to 
a  general  council ;  so  that  the  extent  of  his  resistance  may  be 
accurately  defined:  he  continued  a  faithful  member  of  the 
Catholic  Chui-ch,  but  he  rejected  the  despotism  of  the  pope,  he 
refused  obedience  to  an  unlimited  and  usurped  authority.  The 
bull  of  excommunication  immediately  followed,  (January  6, 1521,) 
but  it  fell  without  force ;  and  any  dangerous  efi'ect,  which  it 
might  otherwise  have  produced,  was  obviated  by  the  provident 
boldness  of  Luther. 

Here  was  the  origin  of  the  Reformation.  This  was  the  irre- 
parable breach,  which  gradually  widened  to  absolute  disruption. 
The  reformer  was  now  compromised,  by  his  conduct,  by  his 
principles,  perhaps  even  by  his  passions.  He  had  crossed  the 
bounds  which  divided  insubordination  from  rebellion,  and  his 
banners  were  openly  unfurled,  and  his  legions  pressed  forward 
on  the  march  to  Rome.  Henceforth  the  champion  of  the  Gos- 
pel entered  with  more  than  his  former  courage  on  the  pursuit 
of  truth ;  and  having  shaken  off  one  of  the  greatest  and  earliest 
of  the  prejudices  in  which  he  had  been  educated,  he  proceeded 
with  fearless  independence  to  examine  and  dissipate  the  rest. 

Charles  V.  succeeded  Maximilian  in  the  empire  in  the  year 
1519 ;  and  since  Frederic  of  Saxony  persisted  in  protecting  the 
person  of  the  reformer,  Leo  X.  became  the  more  anxious  to 


MARTIN    LUTHER.  63 

arouse  the  imperial  indignation  in  defence  of  the  injured  majesty 
of  the  church.  In  1521  a  diet  was  assembled  at  Worms,  and 
Luther  was  summoned  to  plead  his  cause  before  it.  A  safe- 
conduct  was  granted  him  by  the  emperor ;  and  on  the  17th  of 
April  he  presented  himself  before  the  august  aristocracy  of 
Germany.  This  audience  gave  occasion  to  the  most  splendid 
scene  in  his  history.  His  friends  were  yet  few,  and  of  no  great 
influence ;  his  enemies  were  numerous  and  powerful,  and  eager 
for  his  destruction:  the  cause  of  truth,  the  hopes  of  religious 
regeneration,  appeared  to  be  placed  at  that  moment  in  the  dis- 
cretion and  constancy  of  one  man.  The  faithful  trembled.  But 
Luther  had  then  cast  off  the  incumbrances  of  early  fears  and 
prepossessions,  and  was  prepared  to  give  a  free  course  to  his 
earnest  and  unyielding  character.  His  manner  and  expressions 
abounded  with  respect  and  humility;  but  in  the  matter  of  his 
public  apology  he  declined  in  no  one  particular  from  the  fulness 
of  his  conviction.  Of  the  numerous  opinions  which  he  had  by 
this  time  adopted  at  variance  with  the  injunctions  of  Rome, 
there  was  not  one  which  in  the  hour  of  danger  he  consented  to 
compromise.  The  most  violent  exertions  were  made  by  the 
papal  party  to  effect  his  immediate  ruin ;  and  there  were  some 
who  were  not  ashamed  to  counsel  a  direct  violation  of  the  im- 
perial safe-conduct:  it  Avas  designed  to  re-enact  the  crimes  of 
Constance,  after  the  interval  of  a  century,  on  another  theatre. 
But  the  infamous  proposal  was  soon  rejected ;  and  it  was  on 
this  occasion  that  Charles  is  recorded  to  have  replied  with 
princely  indignation,  that  if  honour  were  banished  from  every 
other  residence,  it  ought  to  find  refuge  in  the  breasts  of  kings. 
Luther  was  permitted  to  retire  from  the  diet;  but  he  had  not 
proceeded  far  on  his  return  when  he  was  surprised  by  a  number 
of  armed  men,  and  carried  away  into  captivity.  It  was  an  act 
of  friendly  violence.  A  temporary  concealment  was  thought 
necessary  for  his  present  security,  and  he  was  hastily  conveyed 
to  the  solitary  castle  of  Wartenburg.  In  the  mean  time  the 
assembly  issued  the  declaration  known  in  history  as  the  ''Edict 
of  Worms,"  in  which  the  reformer  was  denounced  as  an  ex- 
communicated schismatic  and  heretic ;  and  all  his  friends  and 
adherents,  all  who  protected  or  conversed  with  him,  were  pur- 
sued by  censures  and  penalties.  The  cause  of  papacy  ob- 
tained a  momentary,  perhaps  only  a  seeming  triumph,  for  it 


64  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

was  not  followed  by  any  substantial  consequences;  and  while 
the  anathematized  reformer  lay  in  safety  in  his  secret  Patmos, 
as  he  used  to  call  it,  the  emperor  withdrew  to  other  parts  of 
Europe  to  prosecute  schemes  and  interests  which  then  seemed 
far  more  important  than  the  religious  tenets  of  a  German  monk. 

While  Luther  was  in  retirement,  his  disciples  at  Wittemberg, 
under  the  guidance  of  Carlostadt,  a  man  of  learning  and  piety, 
proceeded  to  put  into  force  some  of  the  first  principles  of  the 
Reformation.  They  would  have  restrained  by  compulsion  the 
superstition  of  private  masses,  and  torn  away  from  the  churches 
the  proscribed  images.  Luther  disapproved  of  the  violence  of 
these  measures;  or  it  may  also  be,  as  some  impartial  writers 
have  insinuated,  that  he  grudged  to  any  other  than  himself  the 
glory  of  achieving  them.  Accordingly,  after  an  exile  of  ten 
months,  he  suddenly  came  forth  from  his  place  of  refuge,  and 
appeared  at  "Wittemberg.  Had  he  then  confined  his  influence 
to  the  introduction  of  a  more  moderate  policy  among  the  re- 
formers, many  plausible  arguments  might  have  been  urged  in 
his  favour.  But  he  also  appears,  unhappily,  to  have  been  ani- 
mated by  a  personal  animosity  against  Carlostadt,  which  was 
displayed  both  then  and  afterwards  in  some  acts  not  very  far 
removed  from  persecution. 

The  marriage  of  Luther,  and  his  marriage  to  a  nun,  was  the 
event  of  his  life  which  gave  most  triumph  to  his  enemies,  and 
perplexity  to  his  friends.  It  was  in  perfect  conformity  with 
his  masculine  and  daring  mind,  that  having  satisfied  himself  of 
the  nullity  of  his  monastic  vows,  he  should  take  the  boldest 
method  of  displaying  to  the  world  how  utterly  he  rejected  them. 
Others  might  have  acted  differently,  and  abstained,  either  from 
conscientious  scruples,  or,  being  satisfied  in  their  own  minds, 
from  fear  to  give  offence  to  their  weaker  brethren ;  and  it  would 
be  presumptuous  to  condemn  either  course  of  action.  It  is 
proper  to  mention  that  this  marriage  did  not  take  place  till  the 
year  1525,  after  Luther  had  long  formally  rejected  many  of  the 
observances  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church;  and  that  the  nun 
whom  he  espoused  had  quitted  her  convent,  and  renounced  her 
profession  some  time  before. 

The  war  of  the  peasants,  and  the  fanaticism  of  Munster  and 
kaa  followers,  presently  afterwards  desolated  Germany ;  and  the 
papal  party  did  not  lose  that  occasion  to  vilify  the  principles 


MARTIN   LUTHER.  65 

of  the  reformers,  and  identify  the  revolt  from  a  spiritual  des- 
potism with  general  insurrection  and  massacre.  It  is  therefore 
Qecessarj  here  to  observe,  that  the  false  enthusiasm  of  Munster 
was  perhaps  first  detected  and  denounced  by  Luther ;  and  that 
the  pen  of  the  latter  was  incessantly  employed  in  deprecating 
every  act  of  civil  insubordination.  He  was  the  loudest  in  his 
condemnation  of  some  acts  of  spoliation  by  laymen,  who  appro- 
priated the  monastic  revenues;  and  at  a  subsequent  period  so 
far  did  he  carry  his  principles,  so  averse  was  he,  not  only  from 
the'use  of  offensive  violence,  but  even  from  the  employment  of 
force  in  the  defence  of  his  cause,  that  on  some  later  occasions 
he  exhorted  the  Elector  of  Saxony  by  no  means  to  oppose  the 
imperial  edicts  by  arms,  but  rather  to  consign  the  persons  and 
principles  of  the  reformers  to  the  protection  of  Providence. 
For  he  was  inspired  with  a  holy  confidence  that  Christ  would 
not  desert  his  faithful  followers,  but  rather  find  means  to  ac- 
complish his  work  without  the  agitation  of  civil  disorders,  or 
the  intervention  of  the  sword.  That  confidence  evinced  the 
perfect  earnestness  of  his  professions,  and  his  entire  devotion 
to  the  truth  of  his  principles.  It  also  proved  that  he  had  given 
himself  up  to  the  cause  in  which  he  had  engaged,  and  that  he 
was  elevated  above  the  consideration  of  personal  safety.  This 
was  no  effeminate  enthusiasm,  no  passionate  aspiration  after  the 
glory  of  martyrdom !  It  was  the  working  of  the  Spirit  of  God 
upon  an  ardent  nature,  impressed  with  the  divine  character  of 
the  mission  with  which  it  was  intrusted,  and  assured,  against  all 
obstacles,  of  final  and  perfect  success. 

As  this  is  not  a  history  of  the  Reformation,  but  only  a  sketch 
of  the  life  of  an  individual  reformer,  we  shall  at  once  proceed 
to  an  affair  strongly,  though  not  very  favourably,  illustrating 
his  character.  The  subject  of  the  eucharist  commanded,  among 
the  various  doctrinal  differences,  perhaps  the  greatest  attention  ; 
and  in  this  matter  Luther  receded  but  a  short  space,  and  with 
unusual  timidity,  from  the  faith  in  which  he  had  been  educated. 
He  admitted  the  real  corporeal  presence  in  the  elements,  and 
differed  from  the  church  only  as  to  the  manner  of  that  presence. 
He  rejected  the  actual  and  perfect  change  of  substance,  but 
supposed  the  flesh  to  subsist  in,  or  with  the  bread,  as  fire  sub- 
sists in  red-hot  iron.  Consequently,  he  renounced  the  term 
traiisubstantiation,  and  substituted  consubstantiation  in  its  place. 
9  f2 


66  LIVES   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

In  the  mean  time,  Zuinglius,  the  reformer  of  Zuric,  had  ex- 
amined the  same  question  with  greater  independence,  and  had 
reached  the  bolder  conclusion,  that  the  bread  and  wine  are  no 
more  than  external  signs,  intended  to  revive  our  recollections 
and  animate  our  piety.  This  opinion  was  adopted  by  Carlo- 
stadt,  (Ecolampadius,  and  other  fathers  of  the  Reformation, 
and  followed  by  the  Swiss  Protestants,  and  generally  by  the 
free  cities  of  the  Empire.  Those  who  held  it  were  called  Sacra- 
mentarians.  The  opinion  of  Luther  prevailed  in  Saxony,  and 
in  the  more  northern  provinces  of  Germany. 

The  difference  was  important.  It  was  felt  to  be  so  by  the 
reformers  themselves ;  and  the  Lutheran  party  expressed  that 
sentiment  with  too  little  moderation.  The  Papists,  or  Papalins, 
(Papalini,)  were  alert  in  perceiving  the  division,  in  exciting  the 
dissension,  and  in  inflaming  it,  if  possible,  into  absolute  schism ; 
and  in  this  matter  it  must  be  admitted,  that  Luther  himself  was 
too  much  disposed  by  his  intem.perate  vehemence  to  further  their 
design.  These  discords  were  becoming  dangerous ;  and  in  1529, 
Philip,  Landgrave  of  Hesse,  the  most  ardent  among  the  pro- 
tectors of  the  Reformation,  assembled  the  leading  doctors  of 
either  party  to  a  public  disputation  at  Marburg.  The  par- 
ticulars of  this  conference  are  singularly  interesting  to  the 
theological  reader;  but  it  is  here  sufficient  to  mention,  without 
entering  into  the  doctrinal  merits  of  the  controversy,  that  what- 
ever was  imperious  in  assertion  and  overbearing  in  authority, 
and  unyielding  and  unsparing  in  polemical  altercation,  pro- 
ceeded from  the  mouth  and  party  of  Luther ;  that  every  ap- 
proach to  humility,  and  self-distrust,  and  m^utual  toleration, 
and  common  friendship,  came  from  the  side  of  Zuinglius  and 
the  Sacramentarians.  And  we  are  bound  to  add,  that  the  same 
uncompromising  spirit,  which  precluded  Luther  from  all  co- 
operation or  fellowship  with  those  whom  he  thought  in  error,  (it 
was  the  predominant  spirit  of  the  church  which  he  had  deserted,) 
continued  on  future  occasions  to  interrupt  and  even  endanger 
the  work  of  his  own  hands.  But  that  very  spirit  was  the  vice 
of  a  character,  which  endured  no  moderation  or  concession  in 
any  matter  wherein  Christian  truth  was  concerned,  but  which 
too  hastily  assumed  its  own  infallibility  in  ascertaining  that 
truth.  Luther  would  have  excommunicated  the  Sacramenta- 
rians ;  and  he  did  not  perceive  how  precisely  his  principle  was 


MARTIN   LUTHER.  57 

the  same  with  that  of  the  church  which  had  excommunicated 
himself. 

Luther  was  not  present  at  the  celebrated  Diet  of  Augsburg, 
held  under  the  superintendence  of  Charles  V.  in  1530;  but  he 
was  in  constant  correspondence  with  Melancthon  during  that 
fearful  period,  and  in  the  reproofs  which  he  cast  on  the  tempo- 
rising, though  perhaps  necessary,  negotiations  of  the  latter,  he 
at  least  exhibited  his  own  uprightness  and  impetuosity.  The 
"Confession"  of  the  Protestants,  there  published,  was  constructed 
on  the  basis  of  seventeen  articles  previously  drawn  up  by 
Luther ;  and  it  was  not  without  his  counsels  that  the  faith, 
permanently  adopted  by  the  church  which  bears  his  name,  was 
finally  digested  and  matured.  From  that  crisis  the  history  of 
the  Reformation  took  more  of  a  political,  less  of  a  religious 
character,  and  the  name  of  Luther  is  therefore  less  prominent 
than  in  the  earlier  proceedings.  But  he  still  continued  for 
sixteen  years  longer  to  exert  his  energies  in  the  cause  which 
was  peculiarly  his  own,  and  to  influence  by  his  advice  and 
authority  the  new  ecclesiastical  system. 

He  died  in  the  year  1546,  the  same,  as  it  singularly  happened, 
in  which  the  Council  of  Trent  assembled,  for  the  self-reforma- 
tion and  re-union  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  But  that 
attempt,  even  had  it  been  made  with  judgment  and  sincerity, 
was  then  too  late.  During  the  twenty-nine  years  which  com- 
posed the  public  life  of  Luther,  the  principles  of  the  Gospel, 
having  fallen  upon  hearts  already  prepared  for  their  reception, 
were  rooted  beyond  the  possibility  of  extirpation ;  and  when  the 
great  reformer  closed  his  eyes  upon  the  scene  of  his  earthly 
toils  and  glory,  he  might  depart  in  the  peaceful  confidence  that 
the  objects  of  his  mission  were  virtually  accomplished,  and  the 
work  of  the  Lord  placed  in  security  by  the  same  heaven-directed 
hand  which  had  raised  it  from  the  dust. 


68 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


PHILIP  MELANCTHON. 


HILIP  was  the  son  of  a  respectable  engiiieei 
named  Schwartzerde,  that  is,  Black-earth,  a 
name  which  he  Grecized  at  a  very  early  age, 
'^^'^  as  soon  as  his  literary  tastes  and  talents 
"*  began  to  display  themselves, — assuming,  in 
compliance  with  the  suggestion  of  his  dis- 
tinguished kinsman  Reuchlin  or  Capnio,  and 
according  to  the  fashion  of  the  age,  the  classical 
synonyme  of  Melancthon.  He  was  born  at 
Bretten,  a  place  near  Wittemberg,  February,  16, 
1497*.  He  commenced  his  studies  at  Heidelberg 
in  1509 ;  and  after  three  years  was  removed  to 
Tubingen,  where  he  remained  till  1518.  These  cir- 
cumstances are  in  this  instance  not  undeserving  of 
notice,  because  Melancthon  gave  from  his  very  boyhood 
abundant  proofs  of  an  active  and  brilliant  genius,  and 
acquired  some  juvenile  distinctions  which  have  been  recorded 
by  grave  historians,  and  have  acquired  him  a  place  among  the 
"Enfans  Celobres"  of  Baillet.  During  his  residence  at  Tubingen 
he  gave  public  lectures  on  Virgil,  Terence,  Cicero,  and  Livy, 
while  he  was  pursuing  with  equal  ardour  his  biblical  studies; 
and  he  had  leisure  besides  to  furnish  assistance  to  Reuchlin  in 
his  dangerous  contests  with  the  monks,  and  to  direct  the  opera- 
tions of  a  printing-press.  The  course  of  learning  and  genius, 
when  neither  darkened  by  early  prejudice  nor  perverted  by 
personal  interests,  ever  points  to  liberality  and  virtue.  In  the 
case  of  Melancthon  this  tendency  was  doubtless  confirmed  by 
the  near  spectacle  of  monastic  oppression  and  bigotry ;  and 
thus  we  cannot  question  that  he  had  imbibed,  even  before  his 
departure  from  Tubingen,  the  principles  which  enlightened  hia 
subsequent  career,  and  which  throw  the  brightest  glory  upon 
his  memory. 


PHILIP    MELANCTHON.  69 

In  1518  (at  the  age  of  twenty-one)  he  was  raised  to  the  pro- 
fessorship of  Greek  in  the  University  of  Wittemberg.  The 
moment  was  critical.  Luther,  who  occupied  the  theological 
chair  in  the  same  university,  had  just  published  his  "Ninety- 
five  Propositions  against  the  Abuse  of  Indulgences,"  and  was 
entering  step  by  step  into  a  contest  with  the  Vatican.  He  was 
in  possession  of  great  personal  authority;  he  was  older  by  four- 
teen years,  and  was  endowed  with  a  far  more  commanding 
spirit,  than  his  brother  professor;  and  thus,  in  that  intimacy 
with  local  circumstances  and  similarity  of  sentiments  imme- 
diately cemented  between  these  two  eminent  persons,  the 
ascendancy  was  naturally  assumed  by  Luther,  and  maintained 
to  the  end  of  his  life.  Melancthon  was  scarcely  established  at 
Wittemberg  when  he  addressed  to  the  reformer  some  very 
flattering  expressions  of  admiration,  couched  in  indifferent 
Greek  iambics ;  and  in  the  year  following  he  attended  him  to 
the  public  disputations  which  he  held  with-  Eckius  on  the  su- 
premacy of  the  Pope.  Here  he  first  beheld  the  strife  into 
which  he  was  destined  presently  to  enter,  and,  learned  the  dis- 
tasteful rudiments  of  theological  controversy. 

Two  years  afterwards,  when  certain  of  the  opinions  of  Luther 
were  violently  attacked  by  the  Faculty  of  Paris,  Melancthon 
interposed  to  defend  their  author,  to  repel  some  vain  charges 
which  were  brought  against  him,  and  to  ridicule  the  pride  and 
ignorance  of  the  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne.  About  the  same 
time  he  engaged  in  the  more  delicate  question  respecting  the 
celibacy  of  the  clergy,  and  opposed  the  popish  practice  with 
much  zeal  and  learning.  This  was  a  subject  which  he  had 
always  nearest  his  heart,  and,  in  the  discussions  to  which  it  led, 
he  surpassed  even  Luther  in  the  earnestness  of  his  argument ; 
and  he  at  least  had  no  personal  interest  in  the  decision,  as  he 
never  took  orders. 

In  1528  it  was  determined  to  impose  a  uniform  rule  of 
doctrine  and  discipline  upon  the  ministers  of  the  reformed 
churches ;  and  the  office  of  composing  it  was  assigned  to  Me- 
lancthon. He  published,  in  eighteen  chapters,  an  "  Instruction 
to  the  Pastors  of  the  Electorate  of  Saxony,"  in  which  he  made 
the  first  formal  exposition  of  the  doctrinal  system  of  the  re- 
formers. The  work  was  promulgated  with  the  approbation  of 
I'Uther;  and  the  article  concerning  the  bodily  presence  in  the 


70  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

eucharist  conveyed  the  opinion  of  the  master  rather  than  that 
of  the  disciple.  Yet  were  there  other  points  so  moderately 
treated  and  set  forth  in  so  mild  and  compromising  a  temper,  as 
sufficiently  to  mark  Melancthon  as  the  author  of  the  document ; 
and  so  strong  was  the  impression  produced  upon  the  Roman 
Catholics  themselves  by  its  character  and  spirit,  that  many  con- 
sidered it  the  composition  of  a  disguised  friend;  and  Faber  even 
ventured  to  make  personal  overtures  to  the  composer,  and  to 
hold  forth  the  advantages  that  he  might  hope  to  attain  by  a 
seasonable  return  to  the  bosom  of  the  Apostolic  Church. 

The  Diet  of  Augsburg  was  summoned  soon  afterwards,  and  it 
assembled  in  1530,  for  the  reconciliation  of  all  differences. 
This  being  at  least  the  professed  object  of  both  parties,  it  was 
desirable  that  the  conferences  should  be  conducted  by  men  of 
moderation,  disposed  to  soften  the  subjects  of  dissension,  and 
to  mitigate  by  temper  and  manner  the  bitterness  of  controversy. 

For  this  delicate  office  Luther  was  entirely  disqualified, 
whereas  the  reputation  of  Melancthon  presented  precisely  the 
qualities  that  seemed  to  be  required ;  the  management  of  the 
negotiations  was  accordingly  confided  to  him.  But  not  without 
the  near  superintendence  of  Luther.  The  latter  was  resident 
•■lose  at  hand ;  he  was  in  perpetual  communication  with  his  dis- 
ciple, and  influenced  most  of  his  proceedings ;  and,  at  least 
during  the  earlier  period  of  the  conferences,  he  only  not  sug- 
gested the  matter,  but  even  authorized  the  form,  of  the  official 
documents. 

It  was  thus  that  the  "  Confession  of  Augsburg"  was  composed ; 
and  we  observe  on  its  very  surface  thus  much  of  the  spirit  of 
conciliation,  that  of  its  twenty-eight  chapters,  twenty-one  were 
devoted  to  the  exposition  of  the  opinions  of  the  reformers,  while 
seven  only  were  directed  against  the  tenets  of  their  adversaries. 
In  the  tedious  and  perplexing  negotiations  that  followed,  some 
concessions  were  privately  proposed  by  Melancthon,  which  could 
scarcely  have  been  sanctioned  by  Luther,  as  they  were  incon- 
sistent with  the  principles  of  the  reformation  a,nd  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  reformers.  In  some  letters  written  towards 
the  conclusion  of  the  diet,  he  acknowledged  in  the  strongest 
terms  the  authority  of  the  Roman  Church  and  all  its  hierarchy; 
he  asserted  that  there  was  positively  no  doctrinal  difference 
between  the  parties ;  that  the  whole  dispute  turned  on  matters 


PHILIP  MELANCTHON.  71 

of  discipline  and  practice ;  and  that,  if  the  pope  would  grant 
only  a  provisional  toleration  on  the  two  points  of  the  double 
communion  and  the  marriage  of  the  clergy,  it  would  not  be 
difficult  to  remove  all  Qther  differences,  not  excepting  that  re- 
specting the  mass.  "Concede,"  he  says  to  the  pope's  legate, 
4'  or  pretend  to  concede  those  two  points,  and  we  will  submit  to 
the  bishops ;  and  if  some  slight  differences  shall  still  remain 
between  the  two  parties,  they  will  not  occasion  any  breach  of 
union,  because  there  is  no  difference  on  any  point  of  faith,  and 
they  will  be  governed  by  the  same  bishops ;  and  these  bishops, 
having  once  recovered  their  authority,  will  be  able  in  process 
of  time  to  correct  defects  which  must  now  of  necessity  be  tole- 
rated." On  this  occasion  Melancthon  took  counsel  of  Erasmus 
rather  than  of  Luther.  It  was  his  object  at  any  rate  to  prevent 
the  war  with  which  the  Protestants  were  threatened,  and  from 
which  he  may  have  expected  their  destruction.  But  the  perfect 
and  almost  unconditional  submission  to  the  Roman  hierarchy, 
which  he  proposed  as  the  only  alternative,  would  have  ac- 
complished the  same  purpose  much  more  certainly;  and  Pro- 
testant writers  have  observed,  that  the  bitterest  enemy  of  the 
Reformation  could  have  suggested  no  more  effectual  or  insidious 
method  of  subverting  it,  than  that  which  was  so  warmly  pressed 
upon  the  Roman  Catholics  by  Melancthon  himself.  Luther  was 
indignant  when  he  heard  of  these  proceedings  ;  he  strongly 
urged  Melancthon  to  break  off  the  negotiations,  and  to  abide 
by  the  Confession.  Indeed,  it  appears  that  these  degrading 
concessions  to  avowed  enemies  produced,  as  is  ever  the  case, 
no  other  effect  than  to  increase  their  pride  and  exalt  their  ex- 
pectations, and  so  lead  them  to  demand  still  more  unworthy 
conditions,  and  a  still  more  abject  humiliation. 

Howbeit,  the  reputation  of  JNIelancthon  was  raised  by  the 
address  which  he  displayed  during  these  deliberations;  and  the 
variety  of  his  talents  and  the  extent  of  his  erudition  became 
more  generally  known  and  more  candidly  acknowledged.  The 
modesty  of  his  character,  the  moderation  of  his  temper,  the 
urbanity  of  his  manners,  his  flexible  and  accommodating  mind, 
recommended  him  to  the  regard  of  all,  and  especially  to  t\w 
patronage  of  the  great.  He  was  considered  as  the  peace-maker 
of  the  age.  All  who  had  any  hopes  of  composing  the  existing 
dissensions  and   preventing  the   necessity  of  absolute  schism, 


72  LIVES    OF   FMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

placed  their  trust  in  tlie  mildness  of  his  expedients.  The  ser- 
vice which  he  had  endeavoured  to  render  to  the  emperor  was 
sought  by  the  two  other  powerful  monarchs  of  that  time. 
Francis  I.  invited  him  to  France  in  ^535,  to  reconcile  the 
growing  diiferences  of  his  subjects ;  and  even  Henry  VIII. 
expressed  a  desire  for  his  presence  and  his  counsels ;  but  the 
elector  could  not  be  persuaded  to  consent  to  his  departure  from 
Saxony. 

In  1541  he  held  a  public  disputation  with  Eckius  at  Worms, 
which  lasted  three  days.  The  conference  was  subsequently 
removed  to  Ratisbon,  and  continued,  with  pacific  professions 
and  polemic  arguments,  during  the  same  year,  with  no  other 
result  than  an  expressed  understanding  that  both  parties  should 
refer  their  claims  to  a  general  council,  and  abide  by  its  decision. 

In  the  mean  time,  as  the  popes  showed  great  reluctance  to 
summon  any  such  council,  unless  it  should  assemble  in  Italy 
and  deliberate  under  their  immediate  superintendence,  and  as 
the  reformers  constantly  refused  to  submit  to  so  manifest  a 
compromise  of  their  claims,  it  seemed  likely  that  some  time 
might  elapse  before  the  disputants  should  have  any  opportunity 
of  making  their  appeal.  Wherefore  the  emperor,  not  brooking  this 
delay,  and  willing  by  some  provisional  measure  to  introduce 
immediate  harmony  between  the  parties,  published  in  1548,  a 
formulary  of  temporary  concord,  under  the  name  of  the  Interim. 
It  proclaimed  the  conditions  of  peace,  which  were  to  be  binding 
only  till  the  decision  of  the  general  council.  The  conditions 
were  extremely  advantageous,  as  might  well  have  been  expected, 
to  the  Roman  Catholic  claims.  Nevertheless,  they  gave  com- 
plete satisfaction  to  neither  party,  and  only  animated  to  farther 
arrogance  the  spirit  of  those  whom  they  favoured 

The  Interim  was  promulgated  at  the  diet  held  at  Augsburg, 
and  it  was  followed  by  a  long  succession  of  conferences,  which 
were  carried  on  at  Leipzig  and  in  other  places,  under  the  Pro- 
testant auspices  of  Maurice  of  Saxony.  Here  was  an  excellent 
field  for  the  talents  and  character  of  Melancthon.  All  the 
public  documents  of  the  Protestants  were  composed  by  him. 
All  the  acuteness  of  his  reason,  all  the  graces  of  his  style,  all 
the  resources  of  his  learning  were  brought  into  light  and  action; 
and  much  that  he  wrote  in  censure  of  the  Interim  was  written 
with  force  and  truth.     But  here,  as  on  former  occasions,  the 


PHILIP    MELANCTHON.  ^3 

effects  of  his  genius  were  marred  by  the  very  moderation  of  his 
principles,  and  the  practical  result  of  his  labours  was  not  bene- 
ficial to  the  cause  which  he  intended  to  serve.  For  in  this 
instance  he  not  only  did  not  conciliate  the  enemies  to  whom  he 
made  too  large  concessions,  but  he  excited  distrust  and  offence 
among  his  friends ;  and  these  feelings  were  presently  exasperated 
into  absolute  schism. 

On  the  death  of  Luther,  two  years  before  these  conferences, 
the  foremost  place  among  the  reformers  had  unquestionably  de- 
volved upon  Melancthon.  He  had  deserved  that  eminence  by 
his  various  endowments  and  his  uninterrupted  exertions:  yet 
was  he  not  the  character  most  fitted  to  occupy  it  at  that  crisis. 
His  incurable  thirst  for  universal  esteem  and  regard ;  his  per- 
petual anxiety  to  soothe  his  enemies  and  soften  the  bigotry  of 
the  hierarchy,  frequently  seduced  him  into  unworthy  compro- 
mises, which  lowered  his  own  cause,  without  obtaining  either 
advantage  or  respect  from  his  adversaries.  It  is  not  thus  that 
the  ferocity  of  intolerance  can  be  disarmed.  The  lust  of  reli- 
gious domination  cannot  be  satisfied  by  soothing  words,  or 
appeased  by  any  exercise  of  religious  charity.  It  is  too  blind 
to  imagine  any  motive  for  the  moderation  of  an  enemy,  except 
the  consciousness  of  weakness.  It  is  too  greedy  to  accept  any 
partial  concession,  except  as  a  pledge  of  still  farther  humiliation, 
to  end  in  absolute  submission.  It  can  be  successfully  opposed 
only  by  the  same  unbending  resolution  which  itself  displays, 
tempered  by  a  calmer  judgment  and  animated  by  a  more 
righteous  purpose. 

The  general  principle  by  which  the  controversial  writings  of 
Melancthon  at  this  time  were  guided  was  this — that  there  were 
certain  essentials  which  admitted  of  no  compromise;  but  that 
the  Interim  might  be  received  as  a  rule  in  respect  to  things 
which  were  indifferent.  Hence  arose  the  necessary  inquiry, 
what  could  properly  be  termed  indifferent.  It  was  the  object 
of  Melancthon  to  extend  their  number,  so  as  to  include  as  many 
as  possible  of  the  points  in  dispute,  and  narrow  the  field  of  con- 
tention with  the  Roman  Catholics.  In  the  pursuance  of  this 
charitable  design  he  did  not  foresee — first,  that  he  would  not 
advance  thereby  a  single  step  towards  the  conciliation  of  their 
animosity — next,  that  he  would  sow  amongst  the  reformers 
themselves  the  seeds  of  intestine  d'scord:  but  so,  unhappily,  it 
10  G 


74  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

proved;  and  the  feeble  expedient  which  was  intended  to  repiel 
the  danger  from  without,  multiplied  that  danger  bj  introducing 
schism  and  disorder  within. 

Indeed,  we  can  scarcely  wonder  that  it  was  so :  for  we  find 
that  among  the  matters  to  be  accounted  indifferent,  and  under 
that  name  conceded,  Melancthon  ventured  to  place  the  doctrine 
of  justification  by  faith  alone ;  the  necessity  of  good  works  to 
eternal  salvation ;  the  number  of  the  sacraments  ;  the  juris- 
diction claimed  by  the  pope  and  the  bishops ;  extreme  unction ; 
and  the  observance  of  certain  religious  festivals,  and  several 
superstitious  rites  and  ceremonies.  It  was  not  possible  that  the 
more  intimate  associates  of  Luther — the  men  who  had  struggled 
by  his  side,  who  were  devoted  to  his  person  and  his  memory, 
who  inherited  his  opinions  and  his  principles,  and  who  were 
animated  by  some  portion  of  his  zeal — should  stand  by  in  silence, 
and  permit  some  of  the  dearest  objects  of  their  own  struggles 
and  the  vigils  of  their  master  to  be  ofiered  up  to  the  foe  by  the 
irresolute  hand  of  Melancthon.  Accordingly,  a  numerous  party 
rose,  who  disclaimed  his  principles  and  rejected  his  authority. 
At  their  head  was  Illyricus  Flacius,  a  fierce  polemic,  who  pos- 
sessed the  intemperance  without  the  genius  of  Luther.  The 
contest  commonly  known  as  the  Adiaphoristic  Controversy 
broke  out  with  great  fury ;  it  presently  extended  its  character 
so  as  to  embrace  various  collateral  points ;  and  the  Roman 
Catholics  were  once  more  edified  by  the  welcome  spectacle  of 
Protestant  dissension. 

Melancthon  held  his  last  fruitless  conference  with  the  Roman 
Catholics  at  Worms  in  the  year  1557;  and  he  died  three  years 
afterwards,  at  the  age  of  63,  the  same  age  that  had  been  attained 
by  Luther.  His  ashes  were  deposited  at  Wittemberg,  in  the 
same  church  with  those  of  his  master ;  a  circumstance  whif;h  is 
thus  simply  commemorated  in  his  epitaph : 

Hie  invicte  tuus  Collega,  Luthere,  Melancthon 

Non  procul  a  tumulo  conditur  ipse  tuo. 
Ut  pia  docti-iuao  coucordia  juuxerat  ambos, 

Sic  sacer  amborum  juugit  hie  ossa  locus. 

Some  days  before  his  death,  while  it  was  manifest  that  his 
end  was  fast  approaching,  Melancthon  wrote  on  a  scrap  of 
paper  some  of  the  reasons  which  reconciled  him  to  the  prospect 


PHILIP    MELANCTHON.  75 

of  his  departure.  Among  them  were  these — that  he  should  see 
God  and  the  Son  of  God ;  that  he  should  comprehend  some 
mysteries  which  he  was  unable  to  penetrate  on  earth,  such  as 
these : — why  it  is  that  we  are  created  such  as  we  are  ?  what 
was  the  union  of  the  two  natures  in  Jesus  Christ  ?  that  he 
should  sin  no  more ;  that  he  should  no  longer  be  exposed  to 
vexations;  and  that  he  should  escape  from  the  rage  of  the 
theologians.  We  need  no  better  proof  than  this  how  his  peace- 
able  spirit  had  been  tortured  during  the  decline  of  life  by  those 
interminable  quarrels,  which  were  entirely  repugnant  to  his 
temper,  and  yet  were  perpetually  forced  upon  him,  and  which 
even  his  own  lenity  had  seemingly  tended  to  augment.  And  it 
is  even  probable  that  the  theologians  from  whose  rage  it  was  his 
especial  hope  to  be  delivered  w^ere  those  who  had  risen  up  last 
against  him,  and  with  whom  his  differences  were  as  nothing 
compared  to  the  points  on  which  they  were  agreed — his  brother 
reformers.  For  being  in  this  respect  unfortunate,  that  his 
endeavours  to  conciliate  the  affections  of  all  parties  had  been 
requited  by  the  contempt  and  insults  of  all,  he  was  yet  more 
peculiarly  unhappy,  that  the  blackest  contumely  and  the  bit- 
terest insults  proceeded  from  the  dissentients  of  his  own.  Thus 
situated,  after  forty  years  of  incessant  exertions  to  reform,  and 
at  the  same  time  to  unite,  the  Christian  world,  when  he  beheld 
discord  multiplied,  and  its  fruits  ripening  in  the  very  bosom  of 
the  Reformation ;  when  he  compared  his  own  principles  and  his 
own  conscience  with  the  taunts  which  were  cast  against  him ; 
when  he  discovered  how  vain  had  been  his  mission  of  conciliation, 
and  how  ungrateful  a  task  it  was  to  throw  oil  upon  the  waters 
of  theological  controversy ;  when  he  reflected  how  much  time 
and  forbearance  he  had  wasted  in  this  hopeless  attempt, — he 
could  scarcely  avoid  the  unwelcome  suspicion  that  his  life  had 
been,  in  some  degree,  spent  in  vain,  and  that  in  one  of  the 
dearest  objects  of  his  continual  endeavours  he  had  altogether 
failed. 

The  reg-son  was,  that  the  extreme  mildness  of  his  own  dis- 
position blinded  him  to  the  very  nature  of  religious  contests, 
and  inspired  him  with  amiable  hopes  which  could  not  possibly 
be  realized.  He  may  have  been  a  better  man  than  Luther ;  he 
may  even  have  been  a  wiser;  he  had  as  great  acuteness;  he 
had  more  learning  and  a  purer  and  more  perspicuous  style ;  he 


76  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

bad  a  more  charitable  temper;  he  had  a  more  candid  mind; 
and  his  love  for  justice  and  truth  forbade  him  to  reject  without 
due  consideration  even  the  argument  of  an  adversary.  He  was 
qualified  to  preside  as  a  judge  in  the  forum  of  theological  litiga- 
tion ;  yet  was  he  not  well  fitted  for  that  which  he  was  called 
upon  to  discharge,  the  ofiice  of  an  advocate.  He  saw  too  much, 
for  he  saw  both  sides  of  the  question ;  his  very  knowledge, 
acting  upon  his  natural  modesty,  made  him  diffident.  He 
balanced,  he  reflected,  he  doubted;  and  he  became,  through 
that  very  virtue,  a  tame  sectarian  and  a  feeble  partisan. 
■  But  his  literary  talents  were  of  the  highest  order,  and  were 
directed  with  great  success  to  almost  all  the  departments  of  learn- 
ing. He  composed  abridgments  of  all  the  branches  of  philosophy, 
which  continued  long  in  use  among  the  students  of  Germany, 
and  purified  the  liberal  arts  from  the  dross  which  was  mixed  up 
with  them.  And  it  was  thus  that  he  would  have  purified  reli- 
gion; and  as  he  had  introduced  the  one  reformation  without 
violence,  so  he  thought  to  accomplish  the  other  without  schism. 
But  he  comprehended  not  the  character  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
priesthood,  nor  could  he  conceive  the  tenacity  and  the  passion 
with  which  men,  in  other  respects  reasonable  and  respectable, 
will  cling  to  the  interests,  the  prejudices,  the  abuses,  the  very 
vices,  which  are  associated  with  their  profession.  It  was  an 
easy  matter  to  him  to  confound  the  superstitious  rites  and  tenets 
of  Rome  by  his  profound  learning  and  eloquent  arguments ; 
but  it  was  another  and  a  far  different  task  to  deal  with  the 
offended  feelings  of  an  implacable  hierarchy.  And  thus  it  is, 
that  while  we  admire  his  various  acquirements  and  eminent 
literary  talents,  and  praise  the  moderation  of  his  charitable 
temper,  we  remark  the  wisdom  of  that  Providence  which  in- 
trusted the  arduous  commencement  of  the  work  of  reformation 
to  firmer  and  ruder  hands  than  his. 

Melancthon's  printed  works  are  very  numerous.  The  most 
complete  edition  of  them  is  that  of  Wittemberg,  1680 — 3,  in 
four  volumes  folio. 


THOMAS  CRANMER. 


THOM^   CRANMER. 


a 


THOMAS   CRANMER. 


HOMAS  CRANMER  was  born  July  2,  1489, 
at  Aslacton,  in  Nottinghamshire.  He  was 
descended  from  an  ancient  family,  which  had 
long  been  resident  in  that  county.  At  the 
age  of  fourteen  he  was  sent  to  Jesus  College, 
Cambridge ;  where  he  obtained  a  fellowship, 
which  he  soon  vacated  by  marriage  with  a 
young  woman  who  is  said  to  have  been  of  bum- 
ble condition.  Within  a  year  after  his  marriage 
he  became  a  widower,  and  was  immediately,  by 
unusual  favour,  restored  to  his  fellowship.  In  1523, 
he  was  admitted  to  the  degree  of  doctor  of  divinity, 
and  appointed  one  of  the  public  examiners  in  that 
faculty.  Here  he  found  an  opportunity  of  showing 
the  fruits  of  that  liberal  course  of  study  which  he  had 
been  for  some  time  pursuing.  As  soon  as  his  teachers 
left  him  at  liberty,  he  had  wandered  from  the  works  of  the 
schoolmen  to  the  ancient  classics  and  the  Bible ;  and,  thus  pre 
pared  for  the  office  of  examiner,  he  alarmed  the  candidates  for 
degrees  in  theology  by  the  novelty  of  requiring  from  them  some 
knowledge  of  the  Scriptures. 

It  was  from  this  useful  employment  that  he  was  called  to 
take  part  in  the  memorable  proceedings  of  Henry  the  Eighth, 
in  the  matter  of  his  divorce  from  Catherine. 

Henry  had  been  counselled  to  lay  his  case  before  the  uni- 
versities, both  at  home  and  abroad.  Cranmer,  to  whom  the 
subject  had  been  mentioned  by  Gardiner  and  Fox,  went  a  step 
farther,  and  suggested  that  he  should  receive  their  decision  as 
sufficient  without  reference  to  the  pope.  This  suggestion  was 
communicated  to  the  king,  who,  observing,  w^ith  his  usual  ele- 
gance of  expression,  that  the  man  had  got  the  sow  by  the  right 

r.  2 


%  LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

ear,  summoned  Cranmer  to  his  presence,  and  immediately  re 
ceived  him  into  his  favour  and  confidence. 

In  1531,  Cranmer  accompanied  the  unsuccessful  embassy  tc 
Rome,  and  in  the  following  year  was  appointed  ambassador  tc 
the  emperor.  In  August,  1532,  the  archbishopric  of  Canterbury 
became  vacant  by  the  death  of  Warham,  and  it  was  HeniT's 
pleasure  to  raise  Cranmer  to  the  primacy.  The  latter  seems 
to  have  been  truly  unwilling  to  accept  his  promotion ;  and  when 
he  found  that  no  reluctance  on  his  part  could  shake  the  king'? 
resolution,  he  suggested  a  difficulty  which  there  was  no  very  ob- 
vious means  of  removing.  The  archbishop  must  receive  his  in- 
vestiture from  the  pope,  and  at  his  consecration  take  an  oath 
of  fidelity  to  his  holiness,  altogether  inconsistent  with  another 
oath,  taken  at  the  same  time,  of  allegiance  to  the  king.  All 
this  had  been  done  without  scruple  by  other  bishops  ;  but  Cran- 
mer was  already  convinced  that  the  papal  authority  in  England 
was  a  mere  usurpation,  and  plainly  told  Henry  that  he  would 
receive  the  archbishopric  from  him  alone.  Henry  was  not  a 
man  to  be  stopped  by  scruples  of  cojiscience  of  his  own  or 
others ;  so  he  consulted  certain  casuists,  who  settled  the  matter 
by  suggesting  that  Cranmer  should  take  the  obnoxious  oath, 
with  a  protest  that  he  meant  nothing  by  it.  He  yielded  to  the 
command  of  his  sovereign  and  the  judgment  of  the  casuists. 
His  protest  was  read  by  himself  three  times  in  the  most  public 
manner,  and  solemnly  recorded.  It  is  expedient  to  notice  that 
the  transaction  was  public,  because  some  historians,  to  make  a 
bad  matter  worse,  still  talk  of  a  private  protest. 

In  1533,  he  pronounced  sentence  of  divorce  against  the  un- 
happy Catherine,  and  confirmed  the  marriage  of  the  king  with 
Anne  Boleyn.  He  was  now  at  leisure  to  contemplate  all  the 
difficulties  of  his  situation.  It  is  commonly  said  that  Cranmer 
himself  had,  at  this  time,  made  but  small  progress  in  Protest- 
antism. It  is  true  that  he  yet  adhered  to  many  of  the  peculiar 
doctrines  of  the  Roman  Church ;  but  he  had  reached,  and  firmly 
occupied,  a  position  which  placed  him  by  many  degrees  nearer 
to  the  reformed  faith  than  to  that  in  which  he  had  been  educated. 
By  recognising  the  Scriptures  alone  as  the  standard  of  the 
Christian  faith,  he  had  embraced  the  very  principle  out  of  which 
Protestantism  flows.  It  had  already  led  him  to  the  Protestant 
doctrine  respecting  the  pardon  of  sin,  which  necessarily  swept 


THOMAS   CRANMER.  ,a 

awaj  all  respect  for  a  large  portion  of  the  machinery  of  Roman- 
ism. As  a  religious  reformer,  Cranmer  could  look  for  no  cordial 
and  honest  support  from  the  king.  Every  one  knows  that 
Henry,  when  he  left  the  pope,  had  no  mind  to  estrange  himself 
more  than  was  necessary  from  the  Papal  Church,  and  that  the 
cause  of  religious  reformation  owes  no  more  gratitude  to  him, 
than  the  cause  of  political  liberty  owes  to  those  tyrants  who, 
for  their  own  security,  and  often  by  very  foul  means,  have 
laboured  to  crush  the  power  of  equally  tyrannical  nobles.  From 
Gardiner,  who,  with  his  party,  had  been  most  active  and  un- 
scrupulous in  helping  the  king  to  his  divorce  and  destroying 
papal  supremacy,  Cranmer  had  nothing  to  expect  but  open  or 
secret  hostility,  embittered  by  personal  jealousy.  Cromwell, 
indeed,  was  ready  to  go  with  him  any  lengths  in  reform  con- 
sistent with  his  own  safety;  but  a  sincere  reformer  must  have 
been  occasionally  hampered  by  an  alliance  with  a  worldly  and 
unconscientious  politician.  The  country  at  large  was  in  a  state 
of  unusual  excitement ;  but  the  rupture  with  Rome  was  regarded 
with  at  least  as  much  alarm  as  satisfaction ;  and  it  was  notorious 
that  many,  who  were  esteemed  for  their  wisdom  and  piety,  con- 
sidered the  position  of  the  church  to  be  monstrous  and  un- 
natural. The  Lollards,  who  had  been  driven  into  concealment, 
^ut  not  extinguished,  by  centuries  of  persecution,  and  the 
ijutherans,  wished  well  to  Cranmer's  measures  of  reform:  but 
he  was  not  equally  friendly  to  them.  They  had  outstripped 
him  in  the  search  of  truth;  and  he  was  unhappily  induced  to 
sanction  at  least  a  miserable  persecution  of  those  men  with 
vhom  he  was  afterwards  to  be  numbered  and  to  suffer. 

His  first  and  most  pressing  care  was  by  all  means  to  reconcile 
the  minds  of  men  to  the  assertion  of  the  king's  ecclesiastical 
supremacy,  because  all  further  changes  must  necessarily  proceed 
from  the  royal  authority.  He  then  addressed  himself  to  what 
seem  to  have  been  the  three  great  objects  of  his  official  exer- 
tions,— the  reformation  of  the  clerical  body,  so  as  to  make  their 
ministerial  services  more  useful ;  the  removal  of  the  worst  part 
of  the  prevailing  superstitious  observances,  which  were  a  great 
bar  to  the  introduction  of  a  more  spiritual  worship ;  and  above 
all,  the  free  circulation  of  the  Scriptures  among  the  people  in 
their  own  language.  In  this  last  object  he  was  opportunely 
assisted  by  the  printing  of  what  is  called  Matthews's  Bible,  by 


80  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

Grafton  and  Whitchurch.  He  procured,  through  the  inter- 
vention of  Cromwell,  the  king's  license  for  the  publication,  and 
an  injunction  that  a  copy  of  it  should  be  placed  in  every  parish 
church.  He  hailed  this  event  with  unbounded  joy;  and  to 
Cromwell,  for  the  active  part  he  took  in  the  matter,  he  says,  is 
a  letter,  ''This  deed  yoa  shall  hear  of  at  the  great  day,  vAieu 
all  things  shall  be  opened  and  made  manifest." 

He  had  hardly  witnessed  the  partial  success  of  the  cause  of 
reformation,  when  his  influence  over  the  king,  and  with  it  the 
cause  which  he  had  at  heart,  began  to  decline.  He  had  no 
friendly  feeling  for  those  monastic  institutions  which  the  rapacity 
of  Henry  had  marked  for  destruction ;  but  he  knew  that  their 
revenues  might,  as  national  property,  be  applied  advantageously 
to  the  advancement  of  learning  and  religion,  and  he  opposed 
their  indiscriminate  transfer  to  the  greedy  hands  of  the  syco- 
phants of  the  court.  This  opposition  gave  to  the  more  un- 
scrupulous of  the  Romanists  an  opportunity  to  recover  their  lost 
ground  with  the  king,  of  which  they  were  not  slow  to  avail 
themselves.  They  w^ere  strong  enough  at  least  to  obtain  from 
parliament,  in  1539,  (of  course  through  the  good-will  of  their 
despotic  master,)  the  act  of  the  Six  Articles,  not  improperly 
called  the  "Bloody  Articles,"  in  spite  of  the  determined  oppo- 
sition of  Cranmer :  an  opposition  which  he  refused  to  withdraw 
even  at  the  express  command  of  the  king.  Latimer  and  Shaxton 
immediately  resigned  their  bishoprics.  One  of  the  clauses  of 
this  act,  relating  to  the  marriage  of  priests,  inflicted  a  severe 
blow  even  on  the  domestic  happiness  of  Cranmer.  In  his  last 
visit  to  the  continent,  he  had  taken,  for  his  second  wife,  a  niece 
of  the  celebrated  divine  Osiander.  By  continuing  to  cohabit 
with  her,  he  would  now,  by  the  law  of  the  land,  be  guilty  of 
felony ;  she  was  therefore  sent  back  to  her  friends  in  Germany. 

From  this  time  till  the  death  of  Henry,  in  1546,  Cranmer 
could  do  little  more  than  strive  against  a  stream  which  not  only 
thwarted  his  plans  of  further  reformation,  but  endangered  hia 
personal  safety;  and  he  had  to  strive  alone,  for  Latimer  and 
other  friends  among  the  clergy  had  retired  from  the  battle,  and 
Cromwell  had  been  removed  from  it  by  the  hands  of  the  exe- 
cutioner. He  was  continually  assailed  by  open  accusation  and 
secret  conspiracy.  On  one  occasion  his  enemies  seemed  to  have 
compassed  his  ruin,  when  Henry  himself  interposed  and  rescued 


THOMAS   CRANMER.  gj 

him  from  their  malice.  His  continued  personal  regard  for 
Cranmer,  after  he  had  in  a  measure  rejected  him  from  his  con- 
fidence, is  a  remarkable  anomaly  in  the  life  of  this  extraordinary 
king;  of  whom,  on  a  review  of  his  whole  character,  we  are 
obliged  to  acknowledge,  that  in  his  best  days  he  was  a  heartless 
voluptuary,  and  that  he  had  become,  long  before  his  death,  a 
remorseless  and  sanguinary  tyrant.  It  is  idle  to  talk  of  the 
^mplaisance  of  the  servant  to  his  master,  as  a  complete  solution 
of  the  difficulty.  That  he  was,  indeed,  on  some  occasions  sub- 
servient beyond  the  strict  line  of  integrity,  even  his  friends 
must  confess ;  and  for  the  part  which  he  condescended  to  act 
in  the  iniquitous  divorce  of  Anne  of  Cleves,  no  excuse  can  be 
found  but  the  poor  one  of  the  general  servility  of  the  times; 
that  infamous  transaction  had  left  an  indelible  stain  of  disgrace 
on  the  archbishop,  the  parliament,  and  the  convocation.  But 
Cranmer  could  oppose  as  well  as  comply:  his  conduct  in  the 
case  of  the  Six  Articles,  and  his  noble  interference  in  favour  of 
Cromwell,  between  the  tiger  and  his  prey,  would  seem  to  have 
been  sufficient  to  ruin  the  most  accommodating  courtier.  Per- 
haps Henry  had  discovered  that  Cranmer  had  more  real  attach- 
ment to  his  person  than  any  of  his  unscrupulous  agents,  and  he 
may  have  felt  pride  in  protecting  one  who,  from  his  unsuspicious 
disposition  and  habitual  mildness,  was  obviously  unfit,  in  such 
perilous  times,  to  protect  himself.  His  mildness  indeed  was 
such,  that  it  was  commonly  said,  '<Do  my  Lord  of  Canterbury 
a  shrewd  turn,  and  you  make  him  your  friend  for  life." 

On  the  accession  of  Edward  new  commissions  were  issued,  at 
the  suggestion  of  Cranmer,  to  himself  and  the  other  bishops,  by 
which  they  were  empowered  to  receive  again  their  bishoprics, 
as  though  they  had  ceased  with  the  demise  of  the  crown,  and 
to  hold  them  during  the  royal  pleasure.  His  object  of  course 
was  to  settle  at  once  the  question  of  the  new  king's  supremacy, 
and  the  proceeding  was  in  conformity  with  an  opinion  which  at 
one  time  he  undoubtedly  entertained,  that  there  are  no  distinct 
orders  of  bishops  and  priests,  and  that  the  office  of  bishop,  so 
far  as  it  is  distinguished  from  that  of  the  priests,  is  simply  of 
civil  origin.  The  government  was  now  directed  by  the  friends 
of  reformation,  Cranmer  himself  being  one  of  the  Council  of 
Regency ;  but  still  his  course  was  by  no  means  a  smooth  one. 
The  unpopularity  which  the  conduct  of  the  late  king  had 
11 


82  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

brought  on  the  cause  was  even  aggravated  by  the  proceedings 
of  its  avowed  friv)nds  during  the  short  reign  of  his  son.  The 
example  of  the  Protector  Somerset  was  followed  by  a  crowd  of 
courtiers  and  not  a  few  ecclesiastics,  in  making  reform  a  plea 
for  the  most  shameless  rapacity,  rendered  doubly  hateful  by  the 
hypocritical  pretence  of  religious  zeal.  The  remonstrances  of 
Cranmer  were  of  course  disregarded ;  but  his  powerful  friends 
were  content  that,  whilst  they  were  filling  their  pockets,  he 
should  complete,  if  he  could,  the  establishment  of  the  reformed 
church.  Henry  had  left  much  for  the  reformers  to  do.  Some, 
indeed,  of  the  peculiar  doctrines  of  Romanism  had  been  modi- 
fied, and  some  of  its  superstitious  observances  abolished.  The 
great  step  gained  was  the  general  permission  to  read  the  Scrip- 
tures ;  and,  though  even  that  had  been  partially  recalled,  it  was 
impossible  to  recall  the  scriptural  knowledge  and  the  spirit  of 
inquiry  to  which  it  had  given  birth.  With  the  assistance  of 
some  able  divines,  particularly  of  his  friend  and  chaplain  Rid- 
ley, afterwards  Bishop  of  London,  Cranmer  was  able  to  bring 
the  services  and  discipline  of  the  church,  as  well  as  the  articles 
of  faith,  nearly  to  the  state  in  which  we  now  have  them.  In 
doing  this  he  had  to  contend  at  once  with  the  determined  hos- 
tility of  the  Romanists,  with  dissensions  in  his  own  party,  and 
conscientious  opposition  from  sincere  friends  of  the  cause.  In 
these  difficult  circumstances  his  conduct  was  marked  generally 
by  moderation,  good  judgment,  and  temper.  But  it  must  be 
acknowledged  that  he  concurred  in  proceedings  against  some  of 
the  Romanists,  especially  against  Gardiner,  which  were  unfair 
and  oppressive.  In  the  composition  of  the  New  Service  Book, 
as  it  was  then  generally  called,  and  of  the  Articles,  we  know 
not  what  parts  were  the  immediate  work  of  Cranmer ;  but  we 
have  good  evidence  that  he  was  the  author  of  three  of  the 
Homilies,  those  of  Salvation,  of  Faith,  and  of  Good  Works. 

It  should  be  observed,  that  Cranmer,  though  he  early  set  out 
from  a  principle  which  might  be  expected  eventually  to  lead  him 
to  the  full  extent  of  doctrinal  reformation,  made  his  way  slowly, 
and  by  careful  study  of  the  Scriptures,  of  which  he  left  behind 
sufficient  proof,  to  that  point  at  which  we  find  him  in  the  reign 
of  Edward.  It  is  certain  that  during  the  greater  part,  if  no"^ 
the  whole,  of  Henry's  reign,  he  agreed  with  the  Romanists  in 
the  doctrine  of  the  corporeal  presence  and  transubstantiatiob. 


THOMAS   CRANMER.  83 

The  death  of  Edward  ushered  in  the  storms  which  troubled 
the  remainder  of  Cranmer*s  days.  All  the  members  of  the  council 
affixed  their  signatures  to  the  will  of  the  young  king,  altering 
the  order  of  succession  in  the  favour  of  Lady  Jane  Grey.  Cran- 
mer's  accession  to  this  illegal  measure,  the  suggestion  of  the 
profligate  Northumberland,  cannot  be  justified,  nor  did  he  him- 
self attempt  to  justify  it.  He  appears  weakly  and  with  great 
reluctance,  to  have  yielded  up  his  better  judgment  to  the  will 
of  his  colleagues,  and  the  opinion  of  the  judges. 

Mary  had  not  been  long  on  the  throne  before  Cranmer  was 
committed  to  the  Tower,  attainted  of  high  treason,  brought 
forth  in  what  seems  to  have  been  little  better  than  a  mockery 
of  disputation,  and  then  sent  to  Oxford,  where,  with  Latimer 
and  Ridley,  he  was  confined  in  a  common  prison.  The  charge 
of  high  treason,  which  might  undoubtedly  have  been  maintained, 
was  not  followed  up,  and  it  was  not,  perhaps,  the  intention  of 
the  government  at  any  time  to  act  upon  it:  it  was  their  wish 
that  he  should  fall  as  a  heretic.  At  Oxford  he  was  repeatedly 
brought  before  commissioners  delegated  by  the  Convocation, 
and,  in  what  were  called  examinations  and  disputations,  was 
subjected  to  the  most  unworthy  treatment.  On  the  20th  of 
April,  1554,  Cranmer,  Ridley,  and  Latimer,  were  publicly  re- 
quired to  recant,  and,  on  their  refusal,  were  condemned  as  here- 
tics. The  commission,  however,  having  been  illegally  :.:Aade 
out,  it  was  thought  expedient  to  stay  the  execution  till  a  new 
one  had  been  obtained ;  which,  in  the  case  of  Cranmer,  was 
issued  by  the  pope.  He  was  consequently  dragged  through  the 
forms  of  another  trial  and  examination ;  summoned,  Avhile  still 
a  close  prisoner,  to  appear  within  eighty  days  at  Rome ;  and 
then,  by  a  sort  of  legal  fiction,  not  more  absurd  perhaps  than 
some  which  still  find  favour  in  our  own  courts,  declared  con- 
tumacious for  failing  to  appear.  Finally,  he  was  degraded,  and 
delivered  over  to  the  secular  power.  That  no  insult  might  be 
spared  him,  Bonner  was  placed  on  the  commission'for  his  degra- 
dation, in  which  employment  he  seems  to  have  surpassed  even 
his  usual  brutality. 

Cranmer  had  been  a  prisoner  for  more  than  two  years,  during 
the  whole  of  which  his  conduct  appears  to  have  been  worthy  of 
the  high  office  which  he  had  held,  and  the  situation  in  which  he 
was  placed.     Whilst  he  expressed  contrition  for  his  political 


84  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

offence,  and  was  earnest  to  vindicate  his  loyalty,  he  maintained 
with  temper  and  firmness  those  religious  opinions  which  had 
placed  him  in  such  fearful  peril.  Of  the  change  which  has 
thrown  a  cloud  over  his  memory,  we  hardly  know  any  thing 
with  certainty  but  the  fact  of  his  recantation.  Little  reliance 
can  be  placed  on  the  detailed  accounts  of  the  circumstances 
which  accompanied  it.  He  was  taken  from  his  miserable  cell 
in  the  prison  to  comfortable  lodgings  in  Christchurch,  where  he 
is  said  to  have  been  assailed  with  promises  of  pardon,  and 
allured,  by  a  treacherous  show  of  kindness,  into  repeated  acts 
of  apostasy.  In  the  mean  while  the  government  had  decreed 
his  death.  On  the  21st  of  March,  1556,  he  was  taken  from  his 
prison  to  St.  Mary's  Church,  and  exhibited  to  a  crowded  audience, 
on  an  elevated  platform,  in  front  of  the  pulpit.  After  a  sermon 
from  Dr.  Cole,  the  Provost  of  Eton,  he  uttered  a  short  and 
affecting  prayer  on  his  knees ;  then  rising,  addressed  an  exhor- 
tation to  those  around  him;  and,  finally,  made  a  full  and  dis- 
tinct avowal  of  his  penitence  and  remorse  for  his  apostasy, 
declaring,  that  the  unworthy  hand  which  had  signed  his  recan- 
tation should  be  the  first  member  that  perished.  Amidst  the 
reproaches  of  his  disappointed  persecutors,  he  was  hurried  from 
the  church  to  the  stake,  where  he  fulfilled  his  promise  by  holding 
forth  his  hand  to  the  flames.  We  have  undoubted  testimony 
that  he  bore  his  sufferings  with  inflexible  constancy.  A  specta- 
tor of  the  Romanist  party  says,  <'  If  it  had  been  either  for  the 
glory  of  God,  the  wealth  of  his  country,  or  the  testimony  of  the 
truth,  as  it  was  for  a  pernicious  error,  and  subversion  of  true 
religion,  I  could  worthily  have  commended  the  example,  and 
matched  it  with  the  fame  of  any  father  of  ancient  time."  He 
perished  in  his  sixty-seventh  year. 

All  that  has  been  left  of  his  writings  will  be  found  in  an 
edition  of  "The  Remains  of  Archbishop  Cranmer,"  lately  pub- 
lished at  Oxford,  in  four  volumes  8vo.  They  give  proof  that 
he  was  deeply  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  Protestantism,  and  that 
his  opinions  were  the  result  of  reflection  and  study ;  though  the 
effect  of  early  impressions  occasionally  appenrs,  as  in  the  manner 
of  his  appeals  to  the  Apocryphal  books,  and  a  submission  to  the 
judgment  of  the  early  fathers,  in  a  degree  barely  consistent 
with  his  avowed  principles. 

This  brief  memoir  does  not  pretend  to  supply  the  reader  with 


THOMAS    CRANMER.  85 

•materials  for  examining  that  difficult  question,  the  character  of 
the  archbishop.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  refer  him  to  such 
well-known  books  as  Strype's  Life  of  Cranmer,  and  the  recent 
works  of  Mr.  Todd  and  Mr.  Le  Bas. 

The  time,  it  seems,  has  not  arrived  for  producing  a  strictly 
impartial  life  of  this  celebrated  man.  Yet  there  is  doubtless  a 
much  nearer  agreement  among  candid  inquirers;  whether  mem- 
bers of  the  Church  of  England  or  Roman  Catholics,  than  the 
language  of  those  who  have  told  their  thoughts  to  the  public 
might  lead  us  to  expect.  Those  who  are  cool  enough  to  under- 
stand that  the  credit  and  truth  of  their  respective  creeds  ai^e  no 
way  interested  in  the  matter,  will  probably  allow,  that  the 
course  of  reform  which  Cranmer  directed  was  justified  to  him- 
Belf  by  his  private  convictions;  and  that  his  motive  was  a  desire 
to  establish  what  he  really  believed  to  be  the  tru^i.  Beyond 
this  they  will  acknowledge  that  there  is  room  for  difference  of 
opinion.  Some  will  see,  in  the  errors  of  his  life,  mly  human 
frailty,  not  irreconcileable  with  a  general  singleness  ^f  purpose; 
occasional  deviations  from  the  habitual  courage  of  a  confirmed 
Christian.  Others  may  honestly,  and  not  uncharitably,  suspect, 
that  the  habits  of  a  court,  and  constant  engagement  in  official 
business,  may  have  somewhat  marred  the  simplicity  of  his 
character,  weakened  the  practical  influence  of  religious  belief, 
and  caused  him,  whilst  labouring  for  the  improvement  of  others, 
to  neglect  his  own ;  and  hence  they  may  account  for  his  un- 
eteadfastness  in  times  of  trial. 

In  addition  to  the  works  already  mentioned,  we  may  name  as 
easily  accessible,  among  Protestant  authorities,  Burnet's  History 
of  the  Reformation  ;  among  Roman  Catholic,  Lingard's  History 
of  England.  Collier,  in  his  Ecclesiastical  History,  stands,  per- 
haps, more  nearly  on  neutral  ground,  but  can  hardly  be  cited 
as  an  impartial  historian.  Though  a  Protestant,  in  his  hatred 
and  dread  of  all  innovators,  and  especially  of  the  Puritans,  he 
seems  ready  to  take  refuge  even  with  popery;  and  examines 
always  with  jealousy,  sometimes  with  malignity,  the  motives 
and  conduct  of  reformers,  from  his  first  notice  of  Wiclif  to  the 
close  of  his  history. 


fl 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS 


HUGH   LATIMER. 


ON  of  an  honest  yeoman  at   Thurcostan,  in 

Leicestershire,  England,  this  able  and  eminent 
prelate  was  born  about  the  year  1470.  At 
the  age  of  four  years,  he  gave  so  great 
proofs  of  a  ready  apprehension,  that  his 
parents,  having  no  other  son,  resolved  to  edu- 
cate him  for  a  learned  profession ;  and  at  the 
age  of  fourteen,  he  went  to  the  University  of 
Cambridge,  where  he  applied  himself  chiefly  to 
the  theological  studies  of  those  times.  On  tak- 
ing priest's  orders,  he  distinguished  himself  by  his 
eal  for  the  tenets  of  Popery,  and  his  invectives 
gainst  the  principles  of  the  reformers  ;  but  having 
subsequently  embraced  the  Protestant  faith,  princi- 
pally through  the  instructions  of  Thomas  Bilney,  a 
devout  clergyman,  he  became  equally  ardent  in  pro- 
moting the  progress  of  the  reformed  doctrines.  His  eminence 
as  a  preacher,  and  the  exemplary  life  which  he  led  with  his 
friend  Bilney,  had  a  very  considerable  influence  in  spreading 
the  new  opinions ;  and  the  exertions  of  the  opposite  party  «vere 
called  forth  to  counteract  his  growing  popularity. 

Doctor  West,  Bishop  of  Ely,  was  at  length  constrained  to 
exercise  his  authority  as  diocesan  ;  but,  being  a  man  of  great 
moderation,  he  contented  himself  with  preaching  against  the 
heretics,  and  forbidding  Latimer  to  preach  in  the  University. 
Doctor  Barnes,  however,  prior  of  the  Augustine  friars,  licensed 
Latimer  to  preach  in  the  church  of  his  priory,  w^hich,  like  most 
monastic  establishments,  was  exempt  from  episcopal  jurisdiction ; 
and  here,  in  spite  of  all  the  machinations  of  his  adversaries,  he 
continued  for  three  years  to  address  the  most  crowded  audiences 
with  distinguished  success  and  applause.     Even  the  Bishop  of 


^SV^i^ 


HUGH  LATIMER. 


HUGH    LATIMER.  87 

Ely  was  frequently  observed  among  his  hearers,  and  candidly 
acknowledged  his  excellence  as  a  preacher. 

About  this  time  King  Henry  VIII.,  desirous  to  conciliate 
the  pope,  enjoined  Wolsey  to  put  the  law  in  execution  against 
heretics,  a  mode  of  proving  one's  orthodoxy  quite  in  vogue  in 
that  age  of  the  world,  and  one  which  was  successfully  practised 
by  Henry's  cotemporary  and  rival,  Francis  I.  of  France.  Ac- 
cordingly, among  others,  Latimer  was  summoned  to  answer  for 
his  avowed  sentiments.  According  to  some  accounts,  he  con- 
sented to  subscribe  the  articles  which  were  proposed  to  him  ;  but 
others  affirm  that  Wolsey  was  so  pleased  with  his  answers,  that 
he  dismissed  him  with  a  very  gentle  admonition. 

Latimer  now  even  began  to  be  in  favour  at  the  court  of  the 
capricious  tyrant  who  then  ruled  England,  and  having  preached 
before  the  king  at  Windsor,  was  noticed  with  more  than  usual 
affability.  This  unlooked-for  graciousness,  however,  was  far 
from  seducing  the  sturdy  reformer  from  his  principles.  He  was 
none  the  less  resolute  in  his  adherence  to  the  cause  of  the 
reformed  religion.  He  had  even  the  courage  to  write  a  letter 
to  the  king,  against  a  proclamation  which  had  been  issued  for 
prohibiting  the  use  of  the  Bible  in  the  English  language. 

Though  his  remonstrance,  which  was  entirely  characteristic, 
being  marked  with  his  usual  openness  and  sincerity,  produced 
no  effect  at  the  time,  yet  the  king,  who  had  before  been  pleased 
with  Latimer's  plain  and  simple  manner  of  address,  or  who  had 
other  ends  to  serve  by  his  aid,  received  it  with  the  utmost  con- 
descension. He  was  afterwards  still  more  firmly  established  in 
the  royal  favour,  by  the  exertions  which  he  made,  in  full  con- 
sistency with  his  principles,  to  support  the  plea  of  the  king's 
supremacy. 

By  the  friendship  of  Dr.  Butts,  the  king's  physician,  and  of 
Cromwell,  the  prime  minister,  both  favourers  of  the  reformation, 
Latimer  was  now  presented  to  the  living  of  West  Kingston, 
Wiltshire ;  and,  contrary  to  the  advice  of  his  friends,  he  resigned 
all  attendance  at  court,  to  devote  himself  to  the  duties  of  his 
parish.  He  also  extended  his  labours  with  great  diligence  into 
the  adjoining  parts  of  the  country,  wherever  he  saw  there  was 
a  deficiency  of  pastoral  instruction,  and  was  rising  rapidly  in 
the  estimation  of  all  good  men  in  those  districts,  when  his 
enemies  drew  up  a  charge  of  heresy  against  him,  and  procured 


88  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

a  citation  for  his  appearance  before  Stokesley,  Bishop  of  London. 
But  this  step,  which  might  naturally  have  been  considered  the 
harbinger  of  his  ruin,  only  furthered  his  promotion ;  for  while 
he  was  greatly  harassed  in  the  archiepiscopal  court,  by  frequent 
examinations,  and  crafty  interrogatories,  and  urgent  injunctions 
to  subscribe  articles  totally  abhorrent  to  his  conscience,  the  king, 
having  been  privately  informed  of  the  treatment  to  which  he 
was  subjected,  interposed  his  authority  and  stopped  all  proceed- 
ings against  him. 

Soon  after  these  troubles  he  was  promoted  to  the  see  of  Wor- 
cester, through  the  influence  of  his  steady  patrons,  Cromwell 
and  Butts.  In  the  high  and  responsible  office  of  bishop,  Lati- 
mer applied  himself  to  the  faithful  discharge  of  his  duties,  and 
proceeded  with  as  much  zeal  as  the  state  of  things  would  admit, 
in  correcting  the  tendency  of  popish  superstitions.  To  under- 
stand the  real  difficulties  in  which  a  conscientious  minister  of 
religion  was  placed  in  the  dawning  hours  of  the  reformation,  it  is 
necessary  to  read  with  attention  some  of  the  accounts  of  cotem- 
porary  writers,  or  to  make  one's  self  familiar  with  the  graphic 
narratives  of  the  quaint  old  martyrologist.  Fox,  who  brings 
before  us,  with  wonderful  vividness,  the  rough  character  of  the 
times.  Not  only  iron  determination  and  unflinching  courage, 
but  what  was  much  rarer,  a  spirit  of  wisdom,  meekness,  and 
moderation,  became  all-important  for  the  purpose  of  effecting 
any  real  good.  This  spirit  Latimer  possessed  in  an  eminent 
degree,  and  by  its  exercise  became  eminently  useful. 

In  1536,  Bishop  Latimer  attended  the  session  of  parliament 
and  convocation,  in  which  the  Protestant  influence  so  far  pre- 
vailed, as  to  abolish  four  out  of  the  seven  sacraments,  and  to 
authorize  the  translation  of  the  Bible  into  English. 

Returning  to  his  bishopric,  and  shunning  all  concern  in  state 
affairs,  he  occupied  himself  entirely  in  the  silent  discharge  of 
his  pastoral  duties,  till  the  year  1539,  when  the  act  of  the  Six 
Articles  was  passed,  which  reduced  him  to  the  necessity  of  sur- 
rendering his  office  or  his  conscience.  Instantly  he  resigned 
his  bishopric,  and  retired  to  a  private  situation  in  the  country ; 
but  being  obliged  to  repair  to  London,  in  consequence  of  a 
severe  bruise,  which  required  better  medical  assistance  than  his 
neighbourhood  could  supply,  he  was  soon  discovered  by  Gar- 
diner's emissaries,  and,   upon  an  allegation  of  having  spoken 


HUGH   LATIMER.  89 

against  the  Six  Articles,  was  committed  to  the  Tower,  where  he 
suffered  a  severe  imprisonment  during  the  six  remaining  years 
of  Henry's  reign. 

Immediately  after  the  accession  of  Edward  VI.  he  recovered 
his  liberty,  and  found  his  old  friends  again  in  power,  but  he 
declined  all  their  proposals  to  reinstate  him  in  his  diocese,  and 
took  up  his  residence  with  Cranmer  at  Lambeth.  Here  he  oc- 
cupied himself  chiefly  in  redressing  the  grievances  of  poor 
persons,  who  flocked  to  him  in  great  numbers.  He  also  assisted 
at  this  time  in  preparing  the  first  part  of  the  English  Homilies. 
He  seldom  failed,  however,  to  appear  in  the  pulpit  on  Sundays ; 
and  besides  preaching  the  Lent  sermons  before  the  king,  fre- 
quently officiated  at  St.  Paul's  Cross,  and  the  different  churches 
of  the  metropolis. 

After  the  death  of  Somerset,  Latimer  withdrew  from  London, 
and  made  use  of  the  king's  license  as  a  general  preacher, 
wherever  his  services  appeared  to  be  required.  But,  upon  the 
restoration  of  popery  at  the  commencement  of  Mary's  reign,  he 
was  .once  more  silenced,  together  with  all  the  Protestant 
preachers,  and  in  a  short  time  summoned  to  London  before  the 
ecclesiastical  council.  He  had  long  been  persuaded  that,  sooner 
or  later,  he  should  be  called  to  answer  with  his  life  for  the 
cause  which  he  had  espoused ;  and  particularly,  that,  in  the  eye 
of  Bishop  Grardiner,  now  prime  minister,  he  was  marked  for 
proscription.  Though  forewarned  of  the  designs  meditated 
against  him,  and  of  the  approach  of  the  messenger  with  the  cita- 
tion from  court,  he  was  so  far  from  availing  himself  of  the  op- 
portunity to  escape,  ^which,  it  is  conjectured,  would  have  been 
more  agreeable  to  his  enemies  than  his  appearance,)  that  he 
instantly  made  ready  to  accompany  the  officer,  and  addressed 
him  in  language  expressive  of  the  utmost  readiness  to  attend 
his  orders.  The  messenger,  however,  acquainted  him  that  he 
had  no  authority  to  seize  his  person ;  and  merely  delivering  the 
citation,  took  his  departure  without  delay. 

Latimer  prepared  to  obey  the  summons,  proceeded  straight 
to  the  metropolis,  and,  on  the  day  of  his  arrival,  presented 
himself  to  the  council,  by  whom  he  was  loaded  with  reproaches, 
and  committed  to  the  Tower.  Notwithstanding  the  infirmities 
of  his  advanced  age,  and  the  severe  treatment  which  he  expe 
rienced,  he  bore  his  confinement  with  the  utmost  patience,  ann 
12  h2 


90  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

even  frequently  indulged  in  his  habitual  jocularity.  Being  de* 
nied  the  benefit  of  a  fire,  even  in  the  midst  of  winter,  he  said 
one  day  to  the  under-keeper,  "  that  if  he  did  not  look  better  ta 
him,  perchance  he  should  deceive  him."  The  lieutenant,  upon 
being  informed  of  these  expressions,  became  apprehensive  of 
some  intention  on  the  part  of  his  prisoner  to  effect  his  escape ; 
and,  coming  to  him  in  person,  required  an  explanation  of  his 
words.  "Yea,  master  lieutenant,"  said  Latimer,  "  for  you  look, 
I  think,  that  I  should  burn  ;  but,  except  you  let  me  have  some 
fire,  I  am  like  to  deceive  your  expectation,  for  I  am  like  to 
starve  for  cold." 

In  1554,  after  half  a  year's  imprisonment,  he  was  conveyed 
to  Oxford,  together  with  Cranmer  and  Ridley,  for  the  purpose 
of  holding  a  public  disputation  with  the  most  eminent  Popish 
divines.  At  these  conferences,  which  were  conducted  in  a  most 
disorderly  manner,  it  is  observable  that,  though  Latimer  avowed 
his  intention  to  shun  argument,  as  of  no  avail,  and  to  content 
himself  with  off*ering  a  plain  account  of  his  faith,  he  nevertheless 
managed  the  controversy  with  more  ability  and  consistency 
than  his  colleagues,  who  attempted  to  answer  the  citations  from 
the  fathers  in  the  quibbling  style  of  the  schoolmen,  while  the 
other  adhered  to  the  pure  strain  of  Scripture  language,  and  dis- 
claimed all  authority  which  did  not  coincide  with  its  plain  import. 
"  Then  you  are  not  of  St.  Chrysostom's  faith,  nor  of  St.  Augus- 
tine's faith?"  said  his  opponents.  "I  have  said,"  replied  the 
bishop,  "  when  they  say  well,  and  bring  Scripture  for  them,  1 
am  of  their  faith  ;  and  farther  Augustine  requireth  not  to  be 
believed." 

After  the  termination  of  the  disputations,  sentence  was  pro- 
nounced against  the  three  Protestant  prelates  as  heretics ;  but 
they  remained  in  custody  till  the  month  of  September  in  the 
following  year,  when  commissioners  were  appointed  to  examine 
them  a  second  time,  and  to  aff'ord  them  an  opportunity  of  retract- 
ing the  sentiments  which  they  had  formerly  avowed.  The  aged 
bishop,  adhering  resolutely  to  his  confession,  was  led  to  the  stake, 
along  with  his  fellow-prisoner  Ridley,  on  the  16th  of  October, 
1555,  where  he  met  the  painful  death  of  his  martyrdom  with 
the  utmost  composure  and  fortitude.  ''  Mr.  Latimer  very  quietly 
suff'ered  his  keeper  to  pull  off"  his  hose  and  his  other  array,  which  to 
look  into  was  very  simple ;  and  being  stripped  into  his  shroud,  he 


HUGH    ^ATIMER.  9I 

seemed  as  comely  a  person  to  them  that  were  there  present,  as  one 
should  lightly  see  ;  and  whereas  in  his  clothes  he  appeared  a  with- 
ered and  crooked,  silly  old  man,  he  now  stood  bold  upright,  as 
comely  a  father  as  one  might  lightly  behold."  As  the  fagots 
were  kindling,  he  said  to  his  companion  in  suffering,  "  Be  of 
good  comfort,  Mr.  Ridley,  and  play  the  man  ;  we  shall  this  day 
light  such  a  candle  by  God's  grace  in  England,  as,  I  trust,  shall 
never  be  put  out ;"  and  as  the  flame  embraced  his  body,  he  re- 
peatedly cried  with  a  firm  voice,  «'  0  Father  of  Heaven,  receive 
my  soul !"  and  expired  in  a  short  time,  without  any  appearance 
of  extreme  agony. 

The  general  character  of  this  venerable  person,  says  one  of 
his  biographers,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  the  particulars  of 
the  foregoing  sketch  of  his  life,  is  most  honourable  to  the  cause 
which  he  embraced,  and  presents  a  worthy  pattern  to  every 
Christian  minister.  He  was  always  more  attentive  to  the  pur- 
suit of  useful  knowledge  than  of  curious  literature  ;  and,  even 
in  his  advanced  years,  was  regularly  occupied  with  his  studies 
many  hours  before  sunrise,  both  in  winter  and  summer.  He 
avoided  all  interference  in  secular  or  political  concerns,  and 
devoted  himself  wholly  to  the  concerns  of  his  office  as  a  Chris 
tian  pastor.  He  was  a  celebrated  and  popular  preacher  in  his 
time ;  and  his  manner  of  address  in  the  pulpit  is  described  as 
having  been  remarkably  earnest  and  impressive  ;  but  his  sermons 
which  are  extant,  though  frequently  marked  by  the  most  affect- 
ing simplicity,  abound  too  much  in  the  low  familiarity,  and  even 
studied  drollery,  which  suited  the  taste  of  that  age,  and  which 
had  their  origin,  with  too  many  other  deviations  froci  apostolic 
example,  in  the  most  corrupted  church  and  darkest  periods  of 
Christend  )m. 


02 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 


NICHOLAS  RIDLEY. 


ITTLE  is  known  of  Ridley's  birth  or  parent- 
age. His  earliest  instructions  in  spiritual  mat- 
ters were  received  from  an  uncle  who  was  a 
clergyman.  He  was  afterwards  placed  at  the 
school  of  Newcastle  on  Tyne ;  then  he  was 
removed  to  Pembroke  Hall,  in  Cambridge, 
and  still  later  to  the  University  of  Louvain. 
Meanwhile,  (1522,)  he  had  been  made  Bachelor 
of  Arts,  and,  two  years  later,  Master  of  Arts.  He 
studied  carefully  and  critically  the  learned  lan- 
guages, so  that,  on  returning  to  his  college,  in  1529, 
he  possessed  all  the  qualifications  which  were  then 
esteemed  as  the  perfection  of  pulpit  argument  and  elo- 
((uence.  His  success,  as  a  preacher,  was  great.  In 
1533,  he  became  senior  proctor,  and,  in  the  following 
year,  university  orator  and  chaplain.  He  had  already 
begun  to  question  some  of  the  popish  tenets ;  and,  when  King 
Henry  VIII.  commenced  his  reform  of  the  ecclesiastical  sys- 
tem, Ridley  threw  his  whole  influence  to  the  monarch's  favour. 
In  1538,  Cranmer  gave  him  the  vicarage  of  Heme  in  Kent ; 
but,  in  the  following  year,  he  preached  publicly  against  the  Six 
Articles.  After  this  he  became  successively  king's  chaplain, 
prebendary  of  Canterbury,  and  officer  in  the  church  of  West- 
minster. Meantime,  he  was  accused  of  having  impugned  the 
law  of  the  Six  Articles,  and  of  directing  that  the  Te  Deum 
should  be  sung  in  English  in  his  church  at  Heme.  The 
charges  being  brought  before  the  privy  council,  were  referred 
by  the  king  to  Cranmer,  who  arrested  the  whole  proceedings. 
Ridley  then  turned  his  attention  to  the  doctrine  of  transub- 
stantiatiou,  and,  it  is  said,  occupied  a  year  of  close  retirement 
in  reading  and  reflecting  on  it.     The  result  was  his  renuncia- 


NICHOLAS    RIDLEY.  9g 

tion  of  a  belief  in  the  actual  presence  ;  and  it  appears  that, 
through  his  influence,  Cranmer  also  renounced  it. 

After  the  death  of  King  Henry,  Ridley  was  appointed  by 
Edward  VI.  (September,  1547)  to  the  see  of  Rochester.  In 
the  following  year  he  assisted  in  the  compilation  of  the  Book 
of  Common  Prayer,  and  at  the  same  time  directed  his  efforts 
to  the  suppression  of  the  Anabaptists.  In  this  latter  work,  he 
gave  way  to  the  cruel  spirit  of  the  age  in  consenting  to  the 
burning  of  Joan  of  Kent  and  a  foreigner  named  Paris — one 
for  denying  the  humanity,  the  other  the  divinity  of  Christ. 
In  the  same  year,  he  succeeded  Bonner,  Bishop  of  London  ; 
and  his  conduct  toward  that  fallen  prelate  was  delicate  and  ho- 
nourable. Ridley  preserved  his  goods  from  injury,  allowed  him 
to  move  about  at  liberty,  paid  the  sums  still  due  to  Bonner's 
servants  for  livery  and  wages,  and  admitted  his  mother  and  sis- 
ter to  the  use  of  their  former  mansion  and  the  archbishop's 
own  table.  He  now  thoroughly  embraced  the  Protestant  cause, 
and  devoted  himself  zealously  to  its  promotion.  He  abolished 
the  church  altars,  and,  together  with  Cranmer,  composed  a  code 
of  faith  in  forty-two  articles,  which  was  sanctioned  by  the  king 
in  council  and  published  under  royal  authority.  About  the 
same  time  Ridley  visited  the  Princess  (afterwards  queen)  Mary, 
at  Hunsdon  house.  The  interview  between  the  champion  of 
reform  and  the  future  champion  of  bigotry,  is  worthy  of  particu- 
lar narration. 

"Her  highness  received  him  in  the  presence  chamber, 
thanked  him  for  his  civility,  and  entertained  him  with  very 
pleasant  discourse  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour;  said  she  remem- 
bered him  at  court  when  chaplain  to  her  father,  and  mentioned 
particularly  a  sermon  of  his  before  her  father  at  the  marriage 
of  Lady  Clinton,  that  now  is,  to  Sir  Anthony  Browne;  and 
then,  leaving  the  presence  chamber,  she  dismissed  him  to  dine 
with  her  servants.  After  dinner  she  sent  for  him  again,  when 
the  bishop  in  conversation  told  her  that  he  did  not  only  come 
to  pay  his  duty  to  her  grace  by  waiting  on  her,  but,  further,  to 
offer  his  service  to  preach  before  her  the  next  Sunday,  if  she 
would  be  pleased  to  admit  him.'  Her  countenance  changed  at 
this,  and  she  continued  for  some  time  silent.  At  last  she  said, 
<I  pray  you,  my  lord,  n\,ake  the  answer  to  this  yourself.'  The 
bishop  proceeding  to  tell  her  that  his  office  and  duty  obliged 


94  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

him  to  make  this  offer,  she  again  desired  him  to  make  the  an- 
swer to  it  himself,  for  that  he  could  i.ot  but  know  what  it  would 
be ;  yet,  if  the  answer  must  come  from  her,  she  told  him  that 
the  doors  of  the  parish  church  should  be  open  for  him  if  he 
came,  and  that  he  might  preach  if  he  pleased  ;  but  that  neither 
would  she  hear  him,  nor  allow  any  of  her  servants  to  do  it. 

"'Madam,'  said  the  bishop,  'I  trust  you  will  not  refuse 
God's  word.'  'I  -cannot  tell,'  said  she,  '  what  you  call  God's 
word.  That  is  not  God's  word  now  that  was  God's  word  in 
my  father's  days.'  The  bishop  observed  that  God's  word  was 
all  one  at  all  times ;  but  had  been  better  understood  and  prac- 
tised in  some  ages  than  others :  upon  which  she  could  contain 
no  longer,  but  told  him — '  You  durst  not  for  your  ears  have 
preached  that  in  my  father's  days  that  now  "you  do;'  and  then, 
to  show  how  able  she  was  in  this  controversy,  she  added — '  As 
for  your  new  books,  I  thank  God  I  never  read  any  of  them  ; 
I  never  did,  and  never  will.'  She  then  broke  out  into  many 
bitter  expressions  against  the  form  of  religion  at  present  esta- 
blished, and  against  the  government  of  the  realm  and  the  laws 
made  in  her  brother's  minority,  which  she  said  she  was  not 
bound  to  obey  till  the  king  came  of  perfect  age,  and  when  he 
was  so,  she  would  obey  them ;  and  then  asked  the  bishop  if  he 
was  one  of  the  council,  and,  on  his  answering  No,  '  You  might 
weir  enough,'  said  she,  'as  the  council  goes  now-a-days  ;'  and 
parted  from  him  with  these  words  :  '  My  Lord,  for  your  civility 
in  coming  to  see  me,  I  thank  you ;  but  for  your  offer  to  pi  each 
before  me,  I  thank  you  not  a  whit.'  After  this,  the  bishop  was 
conducted  to  the  room  where  he  had  dined,  where  Sir  Thomas 
Wharton  gave  him  a  glass  of  wine,  which  when  he  had  drank, 
he  seemed  confounded,  and  said,  '  Surely  I  have  done  amiss ;' 
and,  being  asked  how,  he  reproached  himself  for  having  drank 
in  that  place  where  God's  word  had  been  refused  ;  '  whereas,' 
said  he,  '  if  I  had  remembered  my  duty,  I  ought  to  have  de- 
parted immediately,  and  to  have  shaken  the  dust  from  my  feet 
as  a  testimony  against  this  house.'  " 

The  untimely  death  of  Edward  VI.  was  a  sad  reverse  in  the 
life  of  Ridley.  The  bishop  lised  his  utmost  power  in  the  sup- 
port of  Lady  Jane  Grey ;  so  that,  tainted  as  he  was  with  the 
darkest  stains  of  heresy  and  rebellion,  he  had  little  mercy  to 
expect  at  the  accession  of  Mary.     He  made  an  effort  for  his 


NICHOLAS  RIDLEY.  95 

life  by  tendering  his  homage  to  her  and  craving  mercy.  The 
queen  sent  him  to  the  Tower.  Here,  during  eight  months,  he 
was  strenuously  urged  to  retract  his  errors  and  trust  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  the  Romish  creed.  Throughout  the  whole 
of  that  fearful  period  he  remained  firm,  and,  on  the  1st  of  Oc- 
tober, 1555,  he  was  brought  to  trial  for  heresy.  His  sentence 
was  death  at  the  stake  ;  and,  on  the  15th  of  the  same  month, 
he  and  Latimer  underwent  the  penalty  with  Christian  fortitude. 
The  fire  which  consumed  these  two  great  men  was  the  signal 
for  the  increase  of  those  cruelties  which,  during  the  reign  of 
Mary,  were  poured  out  without  mixture  upon  the  Protestants, 
and  of  the  sight  of  which  it  was  happy  to  be  deprived  by  an 
early  death. 


06 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


ISABELLA   OF   CASTILE. 


f^  SAB  ELLA,  Queen  of  Castile  and  Arragon,  was 
born  at  Madrigal,  April  23,  1451.  Her  pa- 
rents were  eJohn  11.  of  Castile,  who  died  when 
she  was  four  years  old,  and  Isabella  of  Portu- 
gal. At  her  father's  death  she  was  removed 
by  her  mother  to  the  town  of  Arevalo,  where, 
during  a  period  of  several  years,  she  lived  re- 
tired, imbibing  those  sentiments  of  piety  and 
fervent  devotion  for  which  she  was  afterwards 
remarkable.  When  she  had  reached  the  age  of 
fourteen,  many  of  the  neighbouring  princes  solicited 
her  hand  in  marriage.  Of  these  the  most  powerful 
were  Don  Carlos  of  Arragon,  Alphonso  of  Portugal, 
md  the  Grand-master  of  Calatrava.  To  the  latter,  a 
vicious  and  dissolute  man,  she  was  actually  aflBanced  ; 
but  he  died,  on  the  eve  of  marriage,  not  without  strong 
suspicions  of  poison.  A  civil  war  ensued,  during  which  Prince 
Alphonso  died  ;  the  insurgents  were  disconcerted,  and  finally  the 
crown  of  Castile  was  offered  to  Isabella.  She  declined  it,  an 
act  which  led  to  a  reconciliation  of  the  contending  factions,  and 
a  treaty  which  included  among  its  articles  a  stipulation  that 
Isabella  should  not  be  induced  to  marry  against  her  will.  Im- 
mediately after,  (September  9,  1468,)  an  interview  took  place 
between  the  princess  and  her  brother,  Henry  of  Castile,  in  which, 
amid  much  pomp,  he  acknowledged  her  as  his  rightful  heir,  and 
his  nobles  kissed  her  hand  in  token  of  homage.  A  coites  of 
the  nation  approved  this  act,  although  it  should  be  observed 
that  the  rightful  heir  was  Joanna,  John's  daughter ;  nor  is  it 
certain  that  the  weak  monarch  intended  to  fulfil  the  engagement 
into  which  he  entered  with  his  sister. 

Isabella's    hand  was    now    sought   by  several    distinguished 
princes ;  among  others,  a  son  of  Edward  IV.  of  England,  and  a 


ISABELLA  OF    CASTILE.  Qf 

brother  of  the  French  monarch.  But  her  inclinations  leaned 
toward  Ferdinand  of  Arragon,  who  at  an  earlier  period  had  been 
one  of  her  suitors.  When  her  feelings  on  this  point  became 
generally  known,  many  obstructions  were  thrown  in  the  way  by 
the  King  of  Portugal,  and  those  who  supported  Joanna.  Isabella 
disregarded  the  efforts  of  her  opponents,  and  on  the  7th  of  Janu- 
ary, 1469,  marriage  articles  were  signed  between  her  and  Fer- 
dinand. Besides  securing  the  foreign  and  domestic  interests  of 
both  nations,  these  articles  stipulated  that  each  sovereign  should 
be  independent  in  his  or  her  kingdom,  and  that  both  should 
unite  in  the  war  against  the  Moors.  The  marriage  was  consum- 
mated and  made  public  on  the  19th  of  October. 

This  marriage  was  the  cause  of  new  disturbances.  Henry 
declared  that  his  sister  had  violated  the  treaty  constituting  her 
his  heir ;  Joanna  was  affianced  to  the  rejected  suitor  of  Isabella, 
Guienneof  France,  and  declared  heir  apparent;  while  the  nobles 
went  over  in  great  numbers  to  Henry's  cause.  A  tedious  war 
ensued,  during  which  Guienne  died.  Losses  were  sustained  on  both 
sides,  and  the  party  of  Isabella,  principally  on  account  of  her 
wise  conduct,  daily  gained  strength.  At  length  an  amicable 
interview  took  place  between  Henry  and  Isabella ;  but  the  con- 
sequent calm  was  of  short  duration.  Another  war  of  checkered 
success  occurred,  during  which  Henry  died,  and  Ferdinand  was 
reduced  to  such  pecuniary  embarrassment  as  to  be  obliged  to 
pawn  his  robes.  But  by  Henry's  death  the  crown  devolved  on 
Isabella,  or  at  least  was  claimed  by  her.  She  demanded  to  be 
publicly  proclaimed ;  and  on  the  13th  of  December,  1474,  this 
ceremony  took  place  amid  much  pomp.  A  disagreeable  dispute 
ensuing,  concerning  the  relative  authority  of  Isabella  and  her 
husband,  it  was  settled  by  the  Cardinal  of  Spain  and  the  Bishop 
of  Toledo,  on  the  basis  of  the  marriage  contract.  The  domestic 
and  religious  affairs  of  Castile  were  to  be  regulated  principally 
by  Isabella;  but  the  common  seal  and  the  national  coin  were  to 
bear  the  images  of  both  sovereigns,  and  both  were  to  administer 
justice. 

Scarcely  had  these  arrangements  been  effected,  when  the 
civil  war  was  renewed.  Several  of  the  most  powerful  nobles 
supported  Joanna;  for  her,  Alphonso  V.  of  Portugal  declared. 
That  monarch,  after  demanding  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  a 
resignation  of  their  crown,  invaded  Castile  with  twenty-one 
13  I 


98  LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

thousand  men.  In  May,  1475,  lie  married  Joanna,  and  then 
marched  against  his  rivals.  Fortunately  for  the  latter,  his 
movements  were  dilatory;  Ferdinand  seized  each  moment  to 
muster  his  forces ;  and  Isabella  frequently  spent  the  whole  night 
in  dictating  letters,  in  riding  from  post  to  post,  or  in  attending' 
to  the  wants  of  her  troops.  By  their  exertions,  forty-two  thou- 
sand men  were  raised,  which,  though  but  partially  disciplined, 
were  led'  against  the  enemy.  At  first  sight  of  the  Portuguese 
they  made  a  disorderly  retreat ;  and  Castile  was  saved  only 
because  Alphonso  neglected  to  pursue.  But  Alphonso  was  kept 
inactive  at  Toro  by  the  danger  then  threatening  Portugal ;  and 
Isabella,  by  devoting  one-half  of  the  church  plate  to  the  state, 
was  enabled  to  raise  another  army.  At  a  great  battle  near  Toro, 
Alphonso  was  defeated  ;  Isabella  offered  public  thanksgivings  to 
God ;  and  soon  after  the  whole  kingdom  submitted  to  the  two  sove- 
reigns. Alphonso  retired  to  his  own  country,  and  Joanna  to  a 
monastery.  In  January,  1479,  the  crown  of  Arragon  devolved 
on  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  by  the  death  of  Ferdinand's  father ; 
and  from  this  event  is  dated  the  rise  of  that  monarchy  which  for 
a  time  was  the  most  splendid  and  powerful  in  Europe. 

Isabella  now  directed  her  attention  to  the  domestic  affairs  of 
her  extended  realm.  To  arrest  the  anarchy  which  reigned 
among  the  nobles,  she  directed  against  them  that  terrible  engine 
of  reform,  the  Holy  Brotherhood.  The  opposition  of  the  aris- 
tocracy was  great ;  but  Isabella  persevered  in  her  schemes  of 
reform  ;  and  when  riots  ensued,  she  quelled  them  by  her  personal 
courage  and  conduct.  She  executed  justice  impartially,  and 
terminated  the  feuds  which  liad  long  existed  between  her  higher 
vassals.  Order  Avas  re-established,  the  laws  were  revised,  restric- 
tions were  imposed  upon  the  clergy,  trade  was  revived,  and 
above  all,  the  crown  was  strengthened  by  every  available  means. 
These  politic  and  benevolent  schemes  were  succeeded  by  one 
which  has  left  a  stain  upon  Isabella's  reputation.  She  revived 
the  Inquisition  throughout  her  kingdom,  directing  its  fearful 
machinery  against  the  Jews.  To  the  crime  of  amassing  wealth 
by  untiring  industry,  these  despised  sectaries  added  the  unpar- 
donable one  of  adhering  to  the  religion  of  their  fathers .  At  the 
time  of  Isabella's  accession  there  was  a  great  cry  against  them,  it 
being  believed  even  by  many  pious  men  that  they  were  accursed 
of  God,  and  deserved  the  greatest  punishments  both  here  and 


ISABELLA   OF    CASTILE.  99 

hereafter.  None  were  more  likely  to  adopt  such  an  opinion  than 
Isabella,  -u  ho,  to  great  zeal  for  the  church,  added  a  serious,  thought- 
ful disposition,  not  altogether  free  from  melancholy.  Her  feelings 
and  her  passions  were  artfully  inflamed  against  heresy,  by  the 
Dominican  Torquemada  ;  and  scarcely  had  she  mounted  the 
throne,  when,  under  the  influence  of  that  bad  man,  the  work  of 
death  began.  The  most  arbitrary  and  silly  circumstances  were 
considered  evidences  of  Judaism  ;  the  rage  of  the  inquisitors 
reached  such  a  pitch  that  the  pope  himself  interfered.  Thou- 
sands fled  from  the  kingdom,  leaving  the  inheritance  obtained 
by  years  of  toil  to  their  persecutors  ;  the  suspected  were  tortured 
to  death  if  they  did  not  confess  themselves  Jews,  and  burnt  if 
torture  extorted  confession.  During  the  eighteen  years  of  Tor- 
quemada's  ministry,  more  than  ten  thousand  were  burned,  and 
one  hundred  thousand  otherwise  punished.  But  while  we  shud- 
der at  such  details,  and  at  the  system  which  could  furnish 
matter  for  them,  let  us  not  forget  that  the  zeal  of  the  persecutors, 
and  especially  of  Isabella,  was  the  legitimate  offspring  of  that  bad 
age,  and  the  result  of  sincere,  though  mistaken  belief. 

During  the  persecution  of  the  Jews,  the  war  with  the  Spanish 
Arabs  broke  out.  For  the  expulsion  of  these  people  from  the 
Peninsula,  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  had  been  long  preparing  ;  and 
the  attack  of  the  Moors  upon  Zahara,  in  1481,  afforded  a  pretext 
for  beginning.  Alhama  was  attacked  by  some  Spanish  soldiers, 
and  after  a  hard  struo;orle  was  reduced.  The  Moorish  king  of 
Grenada  laid  siege  to  it  with  the  best  part  of  his  army ;  the  gar- 
rison were  reduced  to  extremity ;  but  the  Moors  were  compelled 
to  raise  the  siege  at  the  approach  of  the  Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia. 
At  this  time  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  were  at  Cordova,  raising 
means  to  prosecute  the  war ;  but  their  joy  at  hearing  that  the 
siege  had  been  raised,  was  interrupted  by  information  that  the 
Moors  had  again  laid  siege  to  it.  Ferdinand  was  for  abandon- 
ing it  to  the  result ;  but  Isabella  induced  him  to  advance  to  its 
relief.  Again  the  Moors  retired  ;  and  Ferdinand  entered  Alhama 
on  the  14th  of  May.  Loja  was  next  besieged,  but  Ferdinand 
could  not  capture  it ;  nor  is  it  probable  that  the  armies  of  Spain, 
for  a  long  time  at  least,  would  have  been  very  successful,  had 
not  a  revolt  against  the  Moorish  king  Boabdil  favoured  their 
efforts.  The  war  continued  with  various  success  until  January 
2,  1492,  when  the  surrender  of  Grenada  secured  the  triumph  of 


100  UVE?:   OF   EMINENT   0HRISTIAN8. 

the  Spanish  sovereigns,  and  broke  forever  the  Moslem  dominion 
in  Spain.  To  this  result,  Isabella  had  contributed  perhaps  as 
much  as  her  husband.  She  urged  the  somewhat  flagging  zeal  of 
Ferdinand,  she  rallied  the  nobles  round  him,  she  rewarded  her 
faithful  followers,  she  frequently  appeared  personally  in  the  camp.^ 
Nor  was  it  forgotten  that  the  war  was  one  undertaken  for  the 
honour  of  the  church  ;  fasts  were  often  held  ;  the  soldiers  were 
inspired  by  the  assurance  that  they  were  engaged  in  a  crusade ; 
and  after  every  great  victory  a  Te  Deum  was  sung  in  the  churches. 
When  money  failed,  the  queen  pawned  her  jewelry;  and  during 
the  obstinate  sieges  of  Baza  and  Grenada,  she  rode  from  one  part 
of  the  camp  to  the  other,  exhorting  the  soldiers  to  duty. 

It  is  pleasing  to  turn  from  the  record  of  blood  and  misery,  in 
which  some  of  the  best  of  persons  are  often  obliged  to  take  part, 
to  a  contemplation  of  affairs  which  tend  to  the  good  of  the 
human  race.  While  the  Moorish  war  was  in  progress,  a  solitary 
navigator  visited  the  court  of  Spain,  of  the  result  of  whose 
labours,  millions  will  in  all  time  reap  the  advantages,  when  the 
Moorish  war  and  its  consequences  will  be  remembered  only  as  a 
fact  in  history  or  a  ground-work  of  romance.  It  was  Columbus. 
With  the  details  of  that  great  man's  sufferings,  his  perseverance, 
his  voyages,  and  his  triumphs,  the  life  of  Isabella  has  nothing 
to  do,  except  so  far  as  she  encouraged  his  undertakings.  There 
is  little  doubt  that  but  for  her,  he  would  have  abandoned  his 
application  to  the  Spanish  court ;  and  the  zeal  with  which  she 
at  length  entered  into  his  views,  and  even  offered  to  pawn  her 
jewels  in  order  to  raise  funds,  deserves  our  commendation. 
The  result  is  known.  He  crossed  the  ocean  in  safety,  he  dis- 
covered a  new  continent,  he  gave  a  new  world  to  Castile  and 
Arragon  ;  for  enabling  him  to  do  so,  the  world  is  indebted  to  Isa- 
bella. Her  schemes  for  the  conversion  of  the  Indians,  if  not  suc- 
cessful, were  sincere ;  and  the  manner  in  Avhich  she  disposed  of 
her  unexpectedly  acquired  wealth,  is  in  general  worthy  of  appro- 
bation. 

labella  was  a  great  collector  of  books  ;  and  she  endowed  seve- 
ral monasteries  with  considerable  libraries.  She  evinced  great 
solicitude  in  the  education  of  her  children  ;  and  her  attention  to 
their  religious  tuition  was  strict  even  to  bigotry.  Herself  a 
scholar,  she  endeavoured  to  spread  knowledge  among  the  royal 
family  ;  nor  were  the  children  of  the  nobles  exempted  from  her 


ISABELLA   OF   CASTILE.  101 

care.  She  filled  the  schools  with  learned  men,  and  caustd  arts, 
sciences  and  literature  to  flourish  throughout  her  dominions. 
Many  of  these  labours  were  undertaken  when  the  kingdom  was 
threatened  with  war,  or,  still  later,  when  the  death  of  her  son  and 
of  the  Princess  Isabella,  had  thrown  a  shade  of  melancholy  over 
her  declining  years.  When  the  Cardinal  Ximenes  became  her 
confessor,  he  induced  her  to  unite  with  him  in  reforming  the 
scandalous  depravity  of  the  monasteries — a  work  in  which  the 
queen  engaged  with  her  usual  religious  zeal.  This  caused  great 
excitement  among  the  people ;  and  the  Franciscan  general  at 
Rome  hastened  to  Spain  in  order  to  stop  the  proposed  reform. 
After  an  unsatisfactory  interview  with  the  queen  he  returned  to 
Italy  ;  and  persuaded  the  pope  to  suspend  the  work  of  reforma- 
tion. This  lasted  for  but  a  season  ;  the  firmness  of  Ximenes 
and  the  zeal  of  Isabella  triumphed  over  every  obstacle  ;  and  the 
pope  finally  acquiesced  in  their  work. 

In  addition  to  the  calamities  of  war,  and  the  domestic  sorrows 
already  mentioned,  Isabella  experienced  the  distress  of  beholding 
her  daughter  in  a  condition  of  hopeless  insanity.  Yet  so  faith- 
fully did  she  attend  to  this  unfortunate  child,  that  her  own  health 
became  shattered,  and  she  was  saved  from  death  only  by  her 
fortitude  of  mind.  Yet  she  still  found  time  to  assist  her  husband 
even  in  his  wars  ;  and  during  the  siege  of  Salsas,  which  occurred 
while  she  lay  sick,  she  made  many  exertions  to  raise  funds  and 
troops  in  order  to  reduce  the  place.  She  still  assisted  Ximenes 
in  his  projects  of  reform  ;  and  when  an  invasion  of  Spain  by 
France  was  rumoured,  she  roused  her  powers,  then  wasting 
under  sorrow  and  sickness,  to  inspire  her  people  once  more  with 
national  ardour.  But  at  this  time  (1503)  the  feeble  condition  of 
her  health  induced  the  cortes  to  request  that  she  would  make 
provision  for  the  succession,  in  case  her  daughter  should  be  inca- 
pacitated. This  intimation  roused  her  for  a  while ;  but  in  the 
early  part  of  1504,  she  received  information  of  the  disgraceful 
scenes  which  had  lately  taken  place  between  the  princess  and 
her  husband.  The  mortification  brought  on  a  fever;  and  this 
soon  increased  to  an  alarming  extent.  <'  Her  whole  system," 
wrote  her  attendant.  Martyr,  "is  pervaded  by  a  consuming 
fever.  She  loathes  food  of  every  kind,  and  is  tormented  with 
incessant  thirst,  while  the  disorder  has  all  the  appearance  of 
terminating  in  dropsy."      The  nation  was  filled  with  gloom,  and 

I  2 


i02  LIVES    OF    EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

the  churches  were  hourly  crowded  with  suppliants,  praying  that 
her  life  might  be  spared.  On  the  12th  of  October,  1504,  she 
dictated  her  testament.  She  directed  that  her  remains  should 
be  deposited  in  the  Franciscan  monastery  of  Santa  Isabella,  in 
the  Alhambra;  "but,"  she  continues,  "should  the  king  my  lord 
prefer  a  sepulchre  in  some  other  place,  then  my  will  is  that  my 
body  be  there  transported,  and  laid  by  his  side  ;  that  the  union 
we  have  enjoyed  in  this  world,  and  through  the  mercy  of  God 
may  hope  again  for  our  souls  in  heaven,  may  be  represented  by 
our  bodies  in  the  earth."  Joanna  was  appointed  "queen  pro- 
prietor" of  her  kingdom,  and  Ferdinand,  regent.  Many  other 
public  and  personal  matters  were  disposed  of  in  this  remarkable 
instrument.  On  the  26th  of  November,  1504,  after  receiving 
the  sacraments,  the  Queen  of  Castile  gently  expired,  in  the  fifty- 
fourth  year  of  her  age.  Her  character  as  a  Christian  is  thus 
given  by  her  biographer,  Mr.  Prescott : 

"  But  the  principle,  which  gave  a  peculiar  colouring  to  every 
feature  of  Isabella's  mind,  was  piety.  It  shone  forth  from  the 
very  depths  of  her  soul  -with  a  heavenly  radiance,  which  illu- 
ninated  her  whole  character.  Fortunately  her  earliest  years 
had  been  passed  in  the  rugged  school  of  adversity,  under  the 
eye  of  a  mother,  who  implanted  in  her  serious  mind  such 
strong  principles  of  religion  as  nothing  in  after  life  had  power 
to  shake.  At  an  early  age,  in  the  flower  of  youth  and  beauty, 
she  was  introduced  to  her  brother's  court ;  but  its  blandish- 
ments, so  dazzling  to  a  young  imagination,  had  no  power  over 
hers,  for  she  was  surrounded  by  a  moral  atmosphere  of  purity, 

'  Driving  far  off  each  thing  of  sin  and  guilt.' 

Such  was  the  decorum  of  her  manners,  that,  though  encom- 
passed by  false  friends  and  open  enemies,  not  the  slightest  re- 
proach was  breathed  on  her  fair  name  in  this  corrupt  and  calum- 
nious court. 

"  She  gave  a  liberal  portion. of  her  time  to  private  devotions, 
as  well  as  to  the  public  exercises  of  religion.  She  expended 
large  sums  in  useful  charities,  especially  in  the  erection  of  hos- 
pitals and  churches,  and  the  more  doubtful  endowments  of  mo- 
nasteries. Her  piety  was  strikingly  exhibited  in  that  unfeigned 
humility,  which,  although  the  very  essence  of  our  faith,  is  so 
rarely  found,  and  most  rarely  in  those  whose  great  powers  and 


ISABELLA   OF  CASTILE.  108 

exalted  stations  seem  to  raise  them  above  the  level  of  ordinary 
mortals.  A  remarkable  illustration  of  this  is  afforded  in  the 
queen's  correspondence  with  Talavera,  in  which  her  meek  and 
docile  spirit  is  strikingly  contrasted  with  the  Puritanical  intole- 
rance of  her  confessor.  Yet  Talavera,  as  we  have  seen,  was 
sincere  and  benevolent  at  heart.  Unfortunately  the  royal  con- 
science was  at  times  committed  to  very  different  keeping,  and 
that  humility  which,  as  we  have  repeatedly  had  occasion  to  no- 
tice, made  her  defer  so  reverentially  to  her  ghostly  advisers, 
led,  under  the  fanatic  Torquemada,  the  confessor  of  her  early 
youth,  to  those  deep  blemishes  on  her  administration,  the  esta- 
blishment of  the  Inquisition  and  the  exile  of  the  Jews." 

''  Isabella's  actions,  indeed,  were  habitually  based  on  princi- 
ple. Whatever  errors  of  judgment  be  imputed  to  her,  she 
most  anxiously  sought,  in  all  situations,  to  discern  and  dis- 
charge her  duty.  Faithful  in  the  dispensation  of  justice,  no 
bribe  was  large  enough  to  ward  off  the  execution  of  the  law ; 
no  motive,  not  even  conjugal  affecWon,  could  induce  her  to 
make  an  unsuitable  appointment  to  public  office  ;  no  reverence 
for  the  ministers  of  religion  could  lead  her  to  wink  at  their 
misconduct ;  nor  could  the  deference  she  entertained  for  the 
head  of  the  church,  allow  her  to  tolerate  his  encroachments  on 
the  rights  of  her  crown.  She  seemed  to  consider  herself  espe- 
cially bound  to  preserve  entire  the  peculiar  claims  and  privi- 
leges of  Castile,  after  its  union,  under  the  same  sovereign,  with 
Arragon.  And  although  'while  her  own  will  was  law,'  says 
Peter  Martyr,  '  she  governed  in  such  a  manner  that  it  might 
appear  the  joint  action  of  both  Ferdinand  and  herself,'  yet  she 
was  careful  never  to  surrender  into  his  hands  one  of  thdse  pre- 
rogatives which  belonged  to  her  as  queen  proprietor  of  the 
kingdom." 


104  LIVES    OF    EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 


ADMIRAL  COLIGNI. 


ASPARD  DE  COLIGNI,  Admiral  of  France, 
was  born  in  1516,  at  Chatillon-sur-Loire.     Of 
his  early  life  we  know  little.     His  first  ap- 
pearance in  public  affairs  was  amid  the  stormy 
scenes  attending  the  uprooting  of  old  opinions 
^       and  old  prejudices,  and  the  sudden  dawning 
1^    of  truth  upon  a  nation  adverse  to  its  reception. 
Coligni  distinguished  himself  under  Francis  I. 
at  the  battle  of  Cerisoles,  and  still  later  in  the 
wars  of  Henry  II.      That  monarch   made  him 
colonel-general   of   the   French  infantry,  and  in 
1552,  Admiral  of  France.     His  valour  and  strict 
discipline  were  exhibited  in   his  heroic  defence  of 
St.  Quentin,  at  the  storming  of  which  he  was  taken 
prisoner. 

At  the  death  of  Henry  11. ,  Catherine  de  Medici  be- 
came regent ;  and  her  rigorous  acts  against  the  Protestants 
soon  caused  them  to  rise  in  arms,  Coligni  and  the  Prince  of 
Conde  were  chosen  leaders.  The  latter  was  ambitious,  enter- 
prising, and  more  active  than  his  colleague  ;  but  the  prudence 
and  fertile  mind  of  Coligni  fitted  him  to  be  the  leader  of  a 
great  party.  Although  often  unfortunate  in  battle,  he  was 
skilful  in  remedying  heavy  losses,  and  was  more  to  be  feared 
after  a  defeat  than  his  enemies  after  a  victory.  In  addition  to 
these  qualities,  he  possessed  virtues  which  endeared  him  to  the 
Protestants,  and  has  caused  his  name  to  be  revered  as  that  of 
a  martyr  in  the  cause  of  civil  and  religious  liberty.  His  per- 
sonal influence  was  so  powerful  in  strengthening  his  party  that 
the  Catholics,  headed  by  the  Guises,  began  to  tremble  for  the 
ascendency. 

In  1562    occurred    at   Dreux  the   first  battle   between  the 


ADMIRAL   COLTGNI.  105 

Huguenots  and  the  Catholics.  The  latter  were  victorious,  but 
the  admiral  saved  his  army.  The  civil  war  continued  with  va- 
rious success  until  the  conclusion  of  a  partial  truce,  during 
which  the  Protestant  leaders  were  invited  to  court  and  treated 
with  seeming  cordiality.  Coligni  was  not  deceived.  He  un- 
derstood the  queen's  character,  and  he  formed  the  design  of 
founding  in  the  new  world  an  asylum  for  his  oppressed  coun- 
trymen. It  was  in  furtherance  of  this  design  that  the  expedi- 
tion of  John  Eibaud  sailed  in  1562.  It  met  with  but  partial 
success,  and  was  succeeded  by  Laudonniere's  expedition,  also  at 
the  admiral's  expense.  The  men  of  this  expedition  were  mas- 
sacred and  gibbeted  by  the  Spanish  Catholics  of  Florida,  an 
event  which  frustrated  Coligni's  hopes,  and  embittered  more 
deeply  the  feelings  of  parties  in  the  mother  country. 

In  1567,  the  civil  war  recommenced  with  increased  fury ; 
and  again  Coligni  and  Condd  were  chosen  leaders  of  the 
Huguenots.  They  fought  a  battle  with  the  Constable  Mont- 
morency at  St.  Denis,  and  another  in  which  Condd  fell  at 
Jarnac.  Coligni  now  became  sole  leader.  He  was  beaten  at 
Moncontour.  Both  parties  were  wearied  and  discouraged,  and 
in  1570  another  hollow  peace  was  concluded.  Coligni  was  in- 
vited to  court,  and,  with  his  adherents,  was  loaded  with  favours. 
Charles  IX.,  by  way  of  indemnity  for  his  losses,  gave  him  a 
seat  in  the  council  and  one  hundred  thousand  francs.  Such 
unexpected  attentions  alarmed  his  friends,  and  he  was  warned 
not  to  trust  the  caresses  of  a  perfidious  court.  The  wisdom  of 
this  warning  was  soon  made  apparent.  On  the  22d  of  August, 
1572,  as  the  admiral  was  leaving  the  Louvre,  his  right  arm 
and  left  hand  were  wounded  by  a  shot  from  a  neighbouring 
window.  It  was  fired  by  one  Maurevel,  a  creature  of  Cathe- 
rine de  Medici,  and,  as  was  supposed,  with  the  knowledge  of 
the  Duke  of  Guise.  The  king  ordered  search  to  be  made  for 
the  assassin,  and,  with  signs  of  the  deepest  sorrow,  exclaimed 
to  Coligni,  "My  father,  you  have  the  wounds,  but  I  the  pain." 
At  the  same  time,  preparations  were  making  for  the  massacre 
^f  St.  Bartholomew  ! 

The  following  account  of  Coligni's  death,  one  of  the  best 
ever  written,  is  from  the  pen  of  an  English  living  writer  : 

It  yet  wanted  an  hour  and  a  half  of  day-break,  when  the 
appointed  signal  was  to  bo  given  upon  tha  tocsin  of  the  Hal) 
14 


106  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

of  Justice.  But  the  interval  appeared  too  long  for  Catherine's 
fears  ;  and,  as  the  distance  to  the  Palais  de  Justice  t\  as  consider- 
able, she  commanded  the  tocsin  of  St.  Germain  de  I'Auxerrois, 
which  is  close  upon  the  Louvre,  to  be  sounded  in  its  place,  and 
the  dreadful  alarum  to  be  given  without  loss  of  time. 

This  order  being  issued,  a  pause  of  perfect  silence  ensued ; 
and  then  those  three  guilty  creatures — the  queen  and  her  two 
miserable  sons — crept  to  a  small  closet  over  the  gate  of  the 
Louvre,  and,  opening  a  window,  looked  uneasily  out  into  the 
night. 

But  all  was  silent  as  the  grave. 

Suddenly  a  pistol  shot  was  heard. 

'<  I  know  not  from  whence,"*  says  the  Duke  d'Anjou,  (for  it 
is  his  account  which  I  am  following,)  "  nor  if  it  wounded  any 
one  ;  but  this  I  know,  the  report  struck  us  all  three  tellement 
dans  V esprit  quil  offensa  notre  sens  ef  notre  jugement.'\  Seized 
at  once  with  terror  and  apprehension  at  the  idea  of  those  great 
disorders  about  to  be  committed,  we  sent  down  a  gentleman  in 
much  haste  to  tell  the  Duke  de  Guise  to  proceed  no  further 
against  the  admiral,  which  would  have  prevented  all  that  fol- 
lowed."J 

But  the  order  came  too  late  ;   Guise  was  already  gone. 

— It  was  still  dark,  for  the  morning  had  not  yet  dawned 
vrhen,  through  the  awful  stillness  of  that  fearful  night,  the  toe. 
sin  of  St.  Germains  was  heard  sounding. 

Through  streets  lighted  by  the  flambeaux  which  now  ap- 
peared in  every  window,  and  through  crowds  of  people  gather- 
ing on  every  side,  the  Dukes  de  Guise  and  Nevers,  with  the 
Chevalier  d'Angoul^me  and  their  suite,  made  their  way  to  the 
hotel  of  the  admiral,  with  whose  murder  the  general  slaughter 
was  to  begin. 

Coligni,  reposing  in  peace  upon  the  good  faith  of  his  master, 
was  quietly  resting  in  his  bed,  and,  having  dismissed  Guorchi 
and  Teligny,  who  lingered  long  after  the  rest  of  the  Huguenot 
gentlemen  had  retired,  was  attended  only  by  Cornaton  and 
Labonne,  two  of  his  gentlemen ;  Yolet,  his  squire ;  Merlin,  his 
religious  minister  ;  his  German  interpreter,  and  Ambrose  Pard, 


*  Discours  a  une  personne  d'honneur,  p.  Henri  III. — M6m.  de  Villeroy. 
f  In  such  a  manner  that  it  seemed  to  take  away  botli  sense  and  judgment. 
i  Discouvs  a  uue,  c^c. 
U 


ADMIRAL    COLIGNI.  107 

who  was  still  in  the  house.  His  ordinary  domestic  servants 
were,  however,  in  waiting  in  the  antechamber.  Outside  the 
street-door  of  his  hotel,  Cosseins,  with  fifty  arquebusiers,  was 
posted,  and  within  were  five  Swiss  guards  belonging  to  the 
King  of  Navarre. 

As  soon  as  the  Duke  de  Guise,  followed  by  his  company,  ap- 
peared, Cosseins  knocked  at  the  outer  door,  which  opened  into 
the  hall  where  the  Swiss  were  placed,  and,  saying  one  was  come 
from  the  king  who  wanted  to  speak  to  the  admiral,  demanded 
admittance.  Some  persons,  who  were  in  waiting,  upon  this 
went  up  to  Labonne,  who  kept  the  keys,  and  who  came  down 
into  the  court,  and  hearing  the  voice  of  Cosseins,  undid  the 
lock  immediately.  But,  at  the  moment  the  door  opened,  the 
unfortunate  gentleman  fell  covered  with  blood,  poignarded  by 
Cosseins,  as  he  rushed  in,  followed  by  his  arquebusiers.  The 
Swiss  guards  prepared  to  defend  themselves;  but,  when  they 
saw  the  tumult  headed  by  the  very  men  who  stood  guard  be- 
fore the  door,  they  lost  courage,  and,  retreating  behind  an- 
other which  led  to  the  stairs,  shut  and  bolted  it ;  but  the  arque- 
busiers fired  through  it,  and  one  of  the  Swiss  guards  fell. 

The  noise  below  awakened  Cornaton,  who,  springing  up,  ran 
down  to  inquire  the  cause  of  this  disturbance.  He  found  the 
hall  filled  with  soldiers,  with  Cosseins  crying  out  to  open  the 
inner  door  deimr  le  Roi.  Seeing  no  means  to  escape,  he  resolved 
at  least  to  defend  the  house  as  long  as  he  could,  and  began  bar- 
ricading the  door  with  boxes,  benches,  and  any  thing  that  came 
to  hand. 

This  done,  he  ran  up  to  the  admiral.  He  found  him  already 
risen  and  in  his  dressing-gown,  standing  leaning  against  the 
wall  of  his  room  and  engaged  in  prayer.  Still  unsuspicious  of 
the  real  truth,  and  imagining  the  populace,  headed  by  the 
Guises,  were  endeavouring  to  force  the  house,  he  relied  upon 
Cosseins  for  protection.  Merlin,  who  lay  in  the  same  cham- 
ber, had  risen  with  him  on  the  first  alarm. 

Cornaton  entering  in  the  greatest  terror,  Coligni  asked 
what  all  this  noise  was  about  ?  "  My  Lord,"  said  Cornaton, 
"it  is  God  who  calls  you.  The  hall  is  carried ;  we  have  no 
means  of  resistance  !"  The  eyes  of  Coligni  were  suddenly 
opened,  and  he  began  to  understand  the  treacl  ery  of  the  king ; 
but  the  terrible  conviction  could  not  shake  his  composure.     He- 


108  LIVES    OF    EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

preserved  his  usual  fii'mness,  and  said  calmly,  "  I  have  long 
been  prepared  to  die.  But  for  you — all  of  you — save  your- 
selves, if  it  be  possible.  You  can  be  of  no  assistance  to  me  ; 
I  recommend  my  soul  to  the  mercy  of  God."  Upon  this,  those 
who  were  in  the  room,  all,  except  one  faithful  servant,  Nicholas 
Muss,  his  trucheman,  or  German  interpreter,  ran  up  to  the 
garrets,  and,  finding  a  window  in  the  roof,  endeavoured  to 
escape  over  the  tops  of  the  neighbouring  houses  ;  but  they 
were  fired  at  from  below,  and  the  most  part  killed.  Merlin  and 
Cornaton,  with  two  others,  only  surviving. 

In  the  mean  time,  Cosseins  having  broken  the  inner  door, 
sent  in  some  Swiss  of  the  Duke  d'Anjou's  guard,  (known  by 
their  uniform,  black,  white,  and  green.)  These  passed  the 
Swiss  upon  the  stairs  without  molesting  them  ;  but  Cosseins, 
rushing  in  after,  armed  in  his  cuirass  and  with  his  naked  sword 
in  his  hand,  followed  by  his  arquebusiers,  massacred  them  all, 
and  then,  hurrying  up  stairs,  forced  open  the  door  of  the  ad- 
miral's room.  Besme,  a  page  of  the  Duke  de  Guise,  a  man  of 
Picardy  named  Attin  Sarlaboux,  and  a  few  others  rushed  in. 
They  found  Coligni  seated  in  an  arm-chair,  regarding  them  with 
the  composed  and  resolute  air  of  one  who  had  nothing  to  fear. 
Besme  rushed  forward  with  his  sword  raised  in  his  hand,  cry- 
ing out,  "Are  you  the  admiral?"  -'I  am,"  replied  Coligni, 
looking  calmly  at  the  sword.  "  Young  man,  you  ought  to  re- 
spect my  gray  hairs  and  my  infirmities  ;  yet  you  cannot  shorten 
my  life."  For  answer,  Besme  drove  his  sword  to  the  hilt  in 
the  admiral's  bosom  ;  then  he  struck  him  over  the  head  and 
across  the  face.  The  other  assassins  fell  upon  him,  and,  co- 
vered with  wounds,  he  soon  lay  mangled  and  dead  at  their  feet. 
D'Aubign^  adds,  that,  at  the  first  blow,  Coligni  cried  out,  <<  If 
it  had  but  been  at  the  hands  of  a  man  of  honour,  and  not  from 
this  varlet — au  moms  si  je  moiirrois  de  la  main  d\m  cavalier 
et  non  point  de  ee  goujat.'' 

The  above  circumstances  were  related  afterwards  by  Attin 
S.irlaboux,  who  has  been  mentioned  as  one  of  the  murderers ; 
but  who  Avas  so  struck  with  the  intrepidity  displayed  by  this 
great  captain,  that  he  could  never  afterwards  speak  of  the  scene 
but  in  terms  of  admiration,  saying  "  he  had  never  seen  man 
meet  death  with  such  constancy  and  firmness." 

The  Duke  de  Guise,  and  the  rest  who  had  penetrated  into  the 


ADMIRAL   COLIGNI.  1 

court,  stood  under  the  window  of  the  admiral's  chamber,  Guise 
impatiently  crying  out,  "Besme,  have  you  done?"  "It  is 
over,"  answered  he  from  above.  The  Chevalier  d'Ang»:ul^me 
called  out,  "  Here  is  Guise  will  not  believe  it  unless  he  sees  it 
with  his  own  eyes.  Throw  him  out  of  the  window."  Then 
Besme  and  Sarlaboux,  with  some  diflBculty,  lifted  up  the  gashed 
and  bleeding  body,  and  flung  it  down.  The  face  being  so  co- 
vered with  blood  that  it  could  not  be  recognised,  the  Duke  de 
Guise  stooped  down,  and  wiping  it  with  his  handkerchief,  this 
man,  whom  Hume  has  not  hesitated  to  call  as  magnanimous  as 
his  father,  cried  out,  "  I  know  him  ;"  and,  giving  a  kick  to  the 
poor  dead  body  of  him  whom  living  every  man  in  France  had 
feared,  <■'  lie  there,"  said  he,  "  hete  venemeuse,  tu  ne  repandras 
done  plus  ton  venin.''"^ 

The  head  was  afterwards  severed  from  the  body,  and  carried 
to  the  queen,  with  a  large  sack  full  of  papers  found  in  pillaging 
the  house.  The  poor,  miserable  trunk  was  exposed  to  all  the 
insults  which  the  terrific  violence  of  an  infuriated  and  fanatical 
mob  can  lavish  upon  the  objects  of  its  detestation.  Mutilated, 
half-burned,  dragged  through  the  dirt  and  mire,  kicked,  beaten, 
and  trampled  on  by  the  very  children  in  the  street.  It  was 
lastly  hung  by  the  heels  upon  a  common  gibbet  at  Montfaucon. 
Such  was  the  fate  of  that  honest  patriot  and  true  Christian — 
Gaspard  Coligni. 

The  admiral's  character  is  sketched  by  the  same  pen  : 

Gaspard  de  Coligni,  Seigneur  de  Chatillon,  occupies  the  next 
place,  after  his  great  rival,  though  early  friend,  the  Duke  de 
Guise. 

Governor  of  Picardy  and  of  the  Isle  of  France,  he  first  held 
the  charge  of  colonel-general  of  the  French  infantry ;  but  he 
had  now^  resigned  it  to  his  brother,  the  Seigneur  d'Andelot, 
when  he  himself  was  created  Grand  Admiral  of  France  ;  and 
he  now  held  that  post,  considered  as  one  of  the  most  eminent 
in  the  kingdom,  and  rated  above  that  of  field-marshal. 

Brantome  compares  him  and  the  Duke  of  Guise  to  two  dia- 
monds of  the  finest  water  ;  on  the  superior  excellence  of  which 
it  is  impossible  to  decide.  "In  their  youth,"  says  he,  "the 
greatest  friendship  had  subsisted  between  them  ;  wearing  the 

*  Lie  there,  poisonous  serpent;  thou  shalt  shed  thy  veuom  no  more.— 
Mem.  de  VEiat  de  France  sous  Charles  /X,  Ob.  Tavannes  TJ. 

K 


110  LIVES    OF  EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

same  dresses,  using  the  same  liveries,  of  the  same  parties  in 
tournaments  and  combats  de  plaisir,  runnings  at  the  ring,  and 
masquerades.' 

<'  Monsieur  de  Gruise  was  prodigiously  eloquent,  and  so  was 
M.  I'Amiral ;  but  the  latter  was  the  more  learned  of  the  two. 
He  understood  and  spoke  Latin  well ;  he  had  both  studied  and 
read ;  always  reading  when  not  engaged  in  affairs  ;  a  censor 
and  weigher  of  things,  loving  honour  and  virtue."* 

To  this  it  must  be  added,  that  his  sense  of  religious  obliga- 
tion was  most  deep  and  fervent,  and  that,  with  him,  the  main 
tenance  of  the  Reform  was  no  pretence  to  cover  a  factious 
ambition,  but  an  object  of  the  most  serious  importance,  justi- 
fied by  his  convictions,  and  to  which  he  deliberately  sacrificed 
the  best  years  of  his  life,  and,  finally,  life  itself.  Brant6me 
bears  witness  how  earnestly  this  great  and  good  man  laboured 
for  peace  ;  and  how  invariably  he  repressed  the  ambitious  de- 
signs of  his  followers,  saying,  "  If  we  have  our  religion,  what 
do  we  want  more  ?"  And  he  feelingly  describes  the  patriotic 
intentions  and  affectionate  confidence  with  which,  after  the  third 
troubles,  Coligni  returned  to  the  king  and  to  that  court  where 
he  was  so  barbarously  slaughtered. 

Coligni  was  one  in  truth  devoted  to  the  great  cause  of  hu- 
man improvement  in  all  its  forms — labouring  for  the  advance- 
ment of  truth  and  the  maintenance  of  justice  and  order.  As 
colonel-general  of  the  French  infantry,  colonel  genSral  de 
Vinfanterie  Frangaise,  Brant6me  tells  us,  "  It  was  he  who 
regulated  it  by  those  fine  ordonnances  that  we  still  have  of  his, 
and  which  are  printed,  practised,  read,  and  published  among 
our  bands.  Captains  and  others,  even  of  the  contrary  party, 
when  any  difficulty  of  war  arose,  would  say,  '  In  this  we  must 
be  guided  by  the  rules  and  ordonnances  of  M.  I'Amiral.'  They 
were  right ;  they  were  the  best  and  most  politic  that  have  ever 
been  made  in  France,  and  I  believe  have  preserved  the  lives  of 
a  million  of  persons — to  say  nothing  of  their  properties  and 
possessions.  For,  till  then,  it  was  nothing  but  pillage,  robbery, 
brigandage,  murders,  quarrels,  and  brutality,  so  that  the  compa- 
nies resembled  hordes  of  wild  Arabs,  rather  than  noble  soldiers. "f 

He  is  also  recorded  (Mem.  de  Vieilleville)  as  being  the  first 

*  Brantome,  Homines  Illustres.  f  Ibid. 


ADMIRAL   COLIGNI.  m 

who  planned  an  hospital  for  the  French  armj ;  and  in  another 
place  he  is  mentioned  as  building  a  large  meeting-house  at 
Rouen  for  the  celebration  of  the  reformed  worship ;  while  the 
strenuous  efforts  be  made  at  the  States-General  of  Orleans, 
1560,  to  obtain  something  like  a  regular  system  of  representa- 
tion for  the  people  of  France,  proves  the  wisdom  and  ener- 
of  his  political  character.  He  was,  perhaps,  one  of  the  truc.c 
patriots  that  France  ever  possessed ;  yet  such  is  the  force  of 
religious  prejudice  and  the  injustice  of  history,  that  the  French 
writers,  almost  without  exception,  (save  those,  indeed,  devoted 
to  his  own  party,)  conspire  in  the  attempt  to  cover  him  with 
obloquy,  as  a  turbulent  and  ambitious  malcontent — handing 
down  from  one  to  another  that  sophistical  sentence  applied  to 
him  by  his  enemies  ;  that  his  greatest  exploits  were  against  his 
king,  his  religion,  and  his  country. 

He  was  married  to  Charlotte  de  Laval,  a  lady  devoted  to  the 
new  religion  ;  and  it  was  she  who  established  in  his  family  what 
he  ever  afterwards  maintained,  a  gravity  and  decorum  rarely  to 
be  seen  in  the  households  of  the  nobility  of  his  time. 

As  an  example  of  what  that  sort  of  discipline  was  which  the 
members  of  the  Reform  instituted  in  their  families,  I  will,  from 
a  cotemporary  author,  transcribe  a  description  of  these  domes- 
tic habits. 

"As  soon  as  the  admiral  had  quitted  his  bed,  which  in  gene- 
ral was  very  early  in  the  morning,  and  had  wrapped  his  night- 
gown around  him,  he  knelt  down,  as  did  his  attendants,  and 
made  a  prayer,  after  the  custom  of  the  French  Huguenot 
churches;  after  which,  while  he  was  waiting  for  the  sermon, 
(which  was  preached  every  day,  accompanied  with  the  singing 
of  psalms,)  he  gave  audience  to  the  deputies  of  the  churches 
that  were  sent  to  him,  and  employed  himself  in  public.  Occa- 
eionally  he  did  business  after  the  sermon  till  dinner-time. 
When  dinner  was  ready,  his  household  servants,  except  those 
who  were  immediately  employed  in  preparing  the  necessaries 
of  the  table,  all  Avaited  in  the  great  hall.  When,  the  table  be- 
ing set,  the  admiral,  with  his  wife  by  his  side,  stood  at  the  head 
of  it.  If  there  had  been  no  sermon  that  morning,  a  psalm  was 
sung,  and  then  the  usual  benediction  followed  ;  which  coremony 
numbers  of  Germans,  colonels  and  captains,  as  well  as  French 
officers,  who  were  asked  to  dine  with  him,  can  witness,  he  ob 


[12  ADMIRAL   COLIGNI. 

served,  without  even  intermitting  a  single  day,  not  only  at  his 
own  house  in  days  of  quiet,  but  even  while  he  was  with  the 
army.  The  cloth  being  taken  away,  he  rose,  as  well  as  his 
wife  and  all  his  attendants,  and  either  returned  thanks  himself, 
or  caused  his  chaplain  to  do  so.  And,  having  observed  that 
some  of  his  household  could  not  regularly  attend  the  prayers 
in  the  evening,  on  account  of  their  occupations  and  amuse- 
ments, he  ordered  that  every  one  of  them  should  present  them- 
selves in  the  great  hall  after  supper,  and  then,  after  singing  a 
Im,  a  prayer  was  said." 


FREDERIC,  ELECTOR  OF  SAXON\. 


113 


FREDERIC,   ELECTOR   OF   SAXONY. 


ERMANY  was  the  cradle  of  the  Reformation — 
the  nursery  where  the  little  plant  of  truth  was 
fostered  and  watered,  until  it  became  strong 
enough  to  resist  the  storms  that  were  raging 
^  without.  The  instrument  appointed  bj  God 
to  perform  this  early  part  of  his  work  was  the 
elector  of  the  state  of  Saxony,  Frederic  the 
/v^  /         Wise. 

^     r»  tS  Frederic  was  born  at  Torgau  in  1463.     At  an 

early  age  he  manifested  a  love  for  study,  especially 
for  philosophical  studies,  and  an  ardent  piety.  In 
1487,  he,  in  conjunction  with  his  brother  John, 
succeeded  to  the  government  of  the  hereditary  states 
i(*s|^  w-  of  his  family,  when  he  received  the  dignity  of  elector 
'^  from  the  Emperor  Frederic  III.  Worldly  elevation 
could  not  overcome  his  humility,  nor  destroy  his  piety. 
Though  belonging  to  a  corrupt  church,  he  longed  after  purity 
of  heart,  with  the  ardour  of  German  enthusiasm ;  and  the  dili- 
gence with  which  he  observed  every  ritual,  and  strove  to  feel  the 
importance  of  every  duty,  while  at  the  same  time  he  refused  all 
persecution  of  his  subjects,  are  circumstances  of  character,  which 
in  an  age  corrupt  and  bigoted,  shine  with  peculiar  lustre.  In 
1493  he  undertook  a  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Sepulchre ;  and 
on  that  sacred  spot  he  received  from  Henry  of  Shaumburg,  the 
order  of  holy  knighthood.  He  became  the  most  powerful  of 
the  German  electors  ;  and  by  his  wealth,  generosity,  ^nd  talents, 
won  the  title  of  Wise. 

It  is  in  connection  with  the  Reformation  that  we  purpose 
considering  the  public  and  private  life  of  Elector  Frederic.  On 
one  hand  we  shall  find  him  cautiously  withholding  his  protection 
from  that  movement,  until  his  reason  was  convinced  of  its 
foundation  in  truth ;  on  the  other,  steadily  defending  it,  after 
15  k2 


114  LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

being  convinced,  against  the  threatenings  of  princes,  and  the 
anathemas  of  the  church. 

Frederic's  fondness  for  learning,  and  esteem  for  true  godli- 
ness, first  led  him  to  take  notice  of  Luther.  These  qualities 
are  exemplified  in  some  remarks  made  by  him  to  Staupitz,  his 
vicar-general,  concerning  the  requisites  of  good  preaching: 
*' All  sermons,"  he  said,  ''made  up  of  mere  subtleties  and  human 
traditions,  are  marvellously  cold,  without  nerve  or  power ;  since 
there  is  no  subtlety  we  can  advance  that  may  not,  by  another 
subtlety,  be  overturned.  Holy  Scripture  alone  is  clothed  with 
such  power  and  majesty,  that,  shaming  us  out  of  our  rules  of 
reason,  it  compels  us  to  cry  out,  'Never  man  spake  as  this  !'" 
Staupitz  assenting  to  this,  the  elector  extended  his  hand,  saying, 
"Promise  me  that  you  will  always  think  thus."  Taking  this  as 
an  index  of  the  elector's  views,  we  cannot  wonder  that  on 
Staupitz's  recommendation,  he  invited  Luther  (1508)  to  the 
professorship  of  Wittemberg  University.  This,  it  will  be  ob- 
served, was  nine  years  before  the  commencement  of  the  Re- 
formation. 

On  the  31st  of  October,  1517,  Luther  nailed  his  famous  theses 
to  the  gate  of  the  University  of  Wittemberg.  During  the  same 
evening  Frederic  is  said  to  have  dreamed  that  one  of  his  monks 
had  overturned  the  Komish  influence.  The  fact  of  this  occurring, 
rests  on  respectable  evidence ;  we  are  cautious  in  yielding 
assent  or  dissent ;  but  a  more  important  fact  is,  that  from  that 
day,  the  elector  watched  the  movements  of  Luther  with  deep 
interest,  weighed  well  his  cause  and  that  of  Rome,  and  finally 
became  prince  of  the  Reformation.  Respectable  historians  have 
asserted  that  he  favoured  Luther,  because  Luther  opposed  the 
extortion  exacted  by  the  clergy  from  the  state;  but  we  may 
observe  in  opposition  to  this  assertion,  that  Frederic  carefully 
Avithheld  his  open  assent  until  the  Reformation  had  spread 
throughout  Germany ;  that  though  an  ardent  admirer  of  Luther, 
he  was  never  a  zealous  supporter ;  that  he  averred  his  willing- 
ness to  silence  the  reformer,  provided  the  Romanists  proved 
him  in  error ;  and  that  the  extortions  of  the  clergy  existed 
long  after  Luther's  attack  on  Tetzel.  To  the  character  of  the 
elector,  rather  than  to  his  policy,  must  be  referred  his  conduct 
respecting  the  Reformation.  One  train  of  circumstances  which 
tended  to  convince  Frederic  of  the  errors  of  Romanism  was  the 


FREDEKIC,   ELECTOR   OF   SAXONY.  115 

violence  of  its  authorities.  On  the  23d  of  August,  1518,  Leo 
X.  addressed  a  brief  to  the  elector,  charging  him  to  seize 
Luther,  and  either  compel  him  to  retract  or  send  him  to  Rome. 
Without  doing  either,  Frederic  gave  Luther  an  opportunity  to 
appear  before  the  legate  who  had  brought  the  brief.  The  rude 
German  foiled  the  polite  Italian,  who  consequently  endeavoured 
to  assume  surer  weapons  than  those  of  argument.  In  a  letter 
to  the  elector,  he  exhorted  that  prince  to  avoid  tarnishing  his 
honoury-'and  that  of  his  ancestors,  by  sending  Luther  to  Rome, 
pr  banishing  him  from  Saxony.  The  elector  sent  a  copy  of  the 
letter  to  Luther;  and  the  indignant,  manly  address  of  the  re- 
former, pleading  for  justice  and  for  truth,  made  a  deep  im- 
pression upon  Frederic.  "Since  Doctor  Martin,"  he  replied 
to  the  legate,  ''has  appeared  before  you  at  Augsburg,  you  ought 
to  be  satisfied.  We  did  not  expect  that,  without  convincing 
him  of  error,  you  would  claim  to  oblige  him  to  retract.  Not 
one  of  the  learned  men  in  our  states  has  intimated  to  us  an 
opinion  that  Martin's  doctrine  is  impious,  unchristian,  or  hereti- 
cal." But  as  Frederic  was  still  a  member  of  the  Romish  church, 
he  became  alarmed  at  its  prospects,  in  connection  with  Luther's 
doctrine,  and  not  long  after  issued  a  command  for  the  reformer 
to  depart.  A  fortunate  circumstance  gave  a  favourable  turn 
to  affairs,  and  the  command  was  recalled.  Immediately  after, 
Luther  appealed  from  the  authority  of  the  pope  to  that  of  a 
general  council ;  from  which  time  Frederic  abandoned  all  idea 
of  delivering  him  to  his  enemies.  In  May,  1519,  an  agreement 
was  made  with  the  legate,  that  Luther's  cause  should  not  be 
acted  upon  until  the  next  meeting  of  the  diet;  and,  by  the 
providence  of  God,  that  meeting  was  postponed  for  two  years. 

The  sixteenth  century  was  big  with  political  as  well  as  reli- 
gious revolution.  On  the  12th  of  January,  1519,  died  Maxi- 
milian, Emperor  of  Germany;  and  in  June  the  electoral  diet 
met  to  choose  his  successor.  It  consisted  of  the  seven  great 
German  princes,  of  whom  Frederic  was  chief.  The  candidates 
for  the  imperial  dignity  were  Charles,  the  young  King  of  Spain, 
Francis  I.  of  France,  Henry  VIII.  of  England,  and  the  King  of 
Naples.  Immense  sums  were  lavished  by  each  of  the  compe- 
titors to  secure  his  election ;  but,  passing  by  all  bribes,  the 
electors  unanimously  offered  the  crown  to  Frederic.  His  answer 
is  -worthy  of  record.     "In  times  of  tranquillity  avc  wish  for  an 


116  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

emperor  who  has  not  power  to  invade  our  liberties;  times  of 
danger  demand  one  who  is  able  to  secure  our  safety.  The 
Turkish  armies,  led  by  a  gallant  and  victorious  monarch,  are  now 
assembling.  They  are  ready  to  pour  in  upon  Germany  with  a 
violence  unknown  in  former  ages.  New  conjunctures  call  for 
new  expedients.  The  imperial  sceptre  must  be  committed  to  some 
hand  more  powerful  than  mine  or  that  of  any  other  German 
prince.  We  possess  neither  dominions,  nor  revenues,  nor  authority 
which  would  enable  us  to  encounter  such  a  formidable  ene- 
my. Recourse  must  be  had,  in  this  exigency,  to  one  of  the  rival 
monarchs.  Each  of  them  can  bring  into  the  field,  forces  suffi- 
cient for  our  defence.  But  as  the  King  of  Spain  is  of  German 
extraction ;  as  he  is  a  member  and  prince  of  the  empire  by  the 
territories  which  descend  to  him  from  his  grandfather ;  as  his 
dominions  stretch  along  that  frontier  which  lies  most  exposed- 
to  the  enemy — his  claim  is  preferable,  in  my  opinion,  to  that  of 
a  stranger  to  our  language,  to  our  blood,  and  to  our  country ; 
and  therefore  I  give  my  vote  to  confer  on  him  the  imperial 
crown."  These  reasons  decided  the  electors  in  their  choice. 
The  grateful  ambassadors  of  Charles  offered  Frederic  a  consider- 
able sum  of  money;  he  rejected  it  with  disdain:  they  begged 
leave  to  distribute  it  among  his  followers  ;  he  could  not,  he  said, 
prevent  them  from  accepting  what  might  be  offered ;  but  who- 
ever among  them  took  a  single  florin,  should  next  morning  be 
dismissed  from  his  service. 

It  was  perhaps  an  error  in  Frederic  not  to  accept  the  imperial 
crown ;  but  however  we  ma}^  decide  this  question,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  the  new  emperor  speedily  placed  the  Reformation  in 
more  danger  than  it  had  yet  been.  At  the  same  time,  the 
pope  and  his  creatures,  who  favoured  Charles,  redoubled  their 
efforts  against  Luther.  "Let  not  Luther,"  wrote  one  of  the 
emissaries  to  the  elector,  "  find  an  asylum  in  your  highness's 
territories;  let  him  be  everywhere  driven  and  stoned  in  open 
day ;  that  will  rejoice  me  more  than  if  you  were  to  give  me  ten 
thousand  crowns."  Frederic's  own  representative  at  Rome  wrote 
that  he  could  receive  no  audience,  on  account  of  his  master's 
protection  to  Luther.  The  elector  was  not  to  be  intimidated. 
His  rule  in  reference  to  the  Reformation  was,  that  if  the  work 
of  man,  it  could  not  succeed ;  if  the  work  of  God,  it  could  not 
be  overturned.     He  intimated  to  the  pope  that,  instead  of  de- 


FREDERIC,    ELECTOR   OF   S/IXONY.  117 

fending  Luther,  he  had  left  him  to  defend  himself;  that  having 
requested  him  to  leave  Saxony,  the  doctor  would  have  obeyed, 
but  that  the  legate  Miltitz  begged  the  elector  to  keep  him  near 
his  person,  lest  he  might  in  other  countries  enjoy  more  liberty. 
<< Germany,"  continued  Frederic,  "possesses  a  great  number  of 
learned  men,  well  acquainted  with  languages  and  sciences ;  the 
laity  themselves  are  beginning  to  be  enlightened,  and  to  be  fond 
of  the  sacred  writings ;  and  if  the  more  reasonable  terms  of 
Dr.  Luther  are  refused,  it  is  much  to  be  feared  that  peace  Avill 
never  be  re-established.  The  doctrine  of  Luther  has  taken  deep 
root  in  many  hearts.  If,  instead  of  refuting  it  by  the  testimony 
of  the  Bible,  attempts  are  made  to  crush  it  by  the  thunders  of 
the  church,  great  offence  will  be  occasioned,  and  terrible  and 
dangerous  rebellions  will  be  excited."  In  the  same  strain,  some 
months  after,  he  answered  the  papal  nuncios  who  demanded  the 
surrender  of  Luther,  and  required  from  the  emperor  a  safe-con- 
duct for  Luther,  in  order  that  he  might  appear  before  a  tribunal 
of  impartial  judges.  About  a  month  after  occurred  his  memor- 
able interview  with  Erasmus,  who,  with  a  frankness  unusual  to 
him,  expressed  his  approbation  of  the  reformer,  and  tended 
much  to  strengthen  the  elector  in  the  course  he  was  then  pur- 
suing. 

At  the  Diet  of  Worms,  Frederic  sat  by  Charles  when  Luther 
acknowledo-ed  the  works  he  had  written  and  refused  to  retract. 
Through  all  the  troubles  which  followed,  he  still  protected 
Luther.  Pope  Adrian,  enraged  at  this  conduct,  addressed  him 
a  letter,  in  which,  after  largely  abusing  both  the  prince  and  the 
monk,  he  continued:  "What  punishment,  what  infliction  dost 
thou  think  we  judge  thee  to  deserve?  Have  pity  on  thyself, 
have  pity  on  thy  poor  Saxons ;  for  surely  if  thou  dost  not  turn 
from  the  evil  of  tli^  way,  God  will  bring  down  his  vengeance 
upon  thee.  In  the  name  of  the  Almighty  God  and  our  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ,  of  whom  I  am  vicegerent  on  earth,  I  warn  thee 
that  thou  wilt  be  judged  in  this  world,  and  be  cast  into  the  lake 
of  everlasting  fire  in  that  which  is  to  come.  Repent  and  be 
converted.  Both  swords  are  impending  over  thy  head — the 
Bword  of  the  empire  and  that  of  the  papal  authority."  The 
reading  of  this  letter  made  the  elector  shudder.  He  had  written 
to  Adrian  to  say  that  age  and  disease  incapacitated  him  for 
attending  any  longer  to  such  matters :  he  received  in  answer 


as  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

one  of  the  most  insolent  missiles,  ever  directed  to  a  man  in 
authority.  Overcome  by  the  feelings  of  insulted  worth,  he  cast 
away  his  usual  caution,  and  thought  of  waging  war  with  tlio 
pontiff.  Luther  and  Melancthon  dissuaded  him ;  the  elector 
submitted  in  silence.  A  violent  persecution  broke  forth  against 
the  adherents  of  the  new  doctrine  in  the  territories  of  Duke 
George,  and  that  prince  desired  the  aged  elector  to  begin  a 
similar  work  in  his  own.  Frederic  replied  that  in  his  state 
crime  should  not  go  unpunished,  but  that  matters  of  conscience 
he  would  leave  to  God.  Not  long  after,  the  nuncio,  Aleander, 
advised  that  the  elector  ought  to  lose  his  head. 

At  length  this  aged  prince  was  called  by  God  from  the 
tumultuous  scenes  in  which  he  had  moved.  His  death  occurred  in 
that  gloomy  and  distracted  hour,  when  the  princes  of  Germany 
were  marching  against  the  fanatics  under  Munzer.  The  atro- 
cities of  civil  war  wrung  his  heart  and  hastened  his  death. 
"  Oh,"  he  exclaimed,  ''  if  it  were  the  will  of  God,  I  would  gladly 
be  released  from  this  life.  I  see  nothing  left,  neither  love,  truth, 
nor  faith,  nor  any  thing  good  upon  this  earth."  His  wish  was 
granted.  On  the  5th  of  May,  1525,  he  received  the  communion 
from  Spalatin.  None  of  his  family  were  present;  but  his  do- 
mestics stood  round  his  bed,  gazing  at  him  in  tears.  "My  little 
children,"  said  the  dying  elector,  "  if  I  have  offended  any  one  of 
you,  forgive  me  for  the  love  of  God ;  for  we  princes  often  offend 
against  such  little  ones,  and  it  ought  not  so  to  be."  Spalatin 
poured  into  his  ear  the  consolations  of  the  gospel,  and  he  re- 
ceived them  as  a  little  child.  Then  destroying  a  will  in  which 
he  had  dedicated  his  soul  to  the  Virgin  Mary,  he  dictated 
another,  in  which  he  cast  himself  on  Christ  "  for  the  forgive- 
jiess  of  his  sins."  He  expressed  his  firm  assurance  that  "he 
was  redeemed  by  the  precious  blood  of  hiB  beloved  Saviour." 
"My  strength  fails  me,"  he  added,  "  I  can  say  no  more."  He 
died  at  five  o'clock  that  evening.  "  Oh,"  exclaimed  Luther^ 
"how  bitter  to  his  survivors  was  that  death!" 


JOHN   HOOPER.  119 


JOHN   HOOPER. 


^  OHN  HOOPER,  Bishop  of  Gloucester,  was 
born  toward  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century, 
and  entered   Oxford    University  about   the 
year  1512.     His  manners,  though  pleasing, 
are  said  to  have  been  grave  and  reserved. 
He  learned  rapidly,  was  created  bachelor  of 
arts   at   the    termination    of   his  first   course, 
and  soon  after  entered  a  Cistertian  monastery. 
Here  he  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  Scrip- 
L      ture.     His  heart  became  softened  under  the  influ- 
ence of  divine  truth,  and  he  began  to  perceive  that 
the  Romish  creed  was  not  the  creed  prescribed  in 
the  word  of  God.    "After  the  study  of  the  sciences," 
says    his  biographer,    "  wherein    he  had    abundantlj^ 
profited,  he  was  stirred  with   a   fervent  desire  to  the 
love  and  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures,  growing  more  and 
more,  by  God's  grace,  in  ripeness  and  spiritual  understanding, 
and  showing  withal  some  sparks  of  his  fervent  spirit." 

As  soon  as  Hooper  had  become  convinced  of  the  truth  of  his 
newly  formed  opinions,  he  made  an  effort  to  give  them  publicity. 
The  age  of  Henry  YIH.  was  unfavourable  to  freedom  of  opinion, 
and  the  monk  became  involved  in  difiiculties  with  the  prelates  of 
that  monarch.  These  difficulties,  with  the  consequences  of  his 
opposition  to  the  Bloody  Statute,  obliged  him  to  quit  Oxford. 
He  found  refuge  under  the  roof  of  Sir  Thomas  Arundel,  an  early 
friend  and  patron,  whom  he  served  in  the  capacity  of  chaplain 
and  house  steward.  Arundel  was  a  Catholic,  zealous  for  the 
faith  of  his  fathers,  and,  though  personally  attached  to  Hooper, 
he  determined  to  use  some  effort  for  his  conversion.  For  this 
purpose  he  sent  him  to  Gardiner,  the  successor  of  Cardinal 
Wolsey,  and  bitter  persecutor  of  the  reformers.      This  man  de- 


i20  LIVES   OF   E.AIINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

tained  Hooper  three  days,  using,  during  that  time,  every  meana 
in  his  power  to  proselyte  him.  Failing  in  this,  he  sent  him 
back  to  Arundel,  ''right  well  commending  his  learning  and 
wit,  but  yet  bearing  in  his  breast  a  grudge  at  Mr.  Hooper." 
From  that  time  Gardiner  eyed  the  man  whom  he  had  failed  to 
vanquish  in  argument,  and,  not  long  after  the  interview, 
Hooper  was  cautioned  to  provide  for  himself.  Hastily  leaving 
his  patron's  house,  he  borrowed  a  horse,  escaped  to  the  sea- 
coast,  and  crossed  to  France.  In  this  country  he  remained  but 
a  short  time.  Returning  to  England,  he  was  discovered  by 
Gardiner's  emissaries,  and  again  forced  to  fly.  After  various 
adventures,  he  reached  the  French  coast,  from  which  he  set  out 
for  Germany.  Here  he  formed  an  acquaintance  with  many  of 
the  learned  men  who  had  shared  in  the  movements  which  ren- 
dered the  German  Empire  the  religious  pulse  of  the  world. 
Thence  he  travelled  to  Switzerland,  where  he  was  received  with 
lively  demonstrations  of  friendship  and  hospitality.  At  Zurich, 
he  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  Hebrew.  In  the  society  of 
true  friends,  he  found  that  enjoyment  which  did  not  exist  in 
his  own  land.  A  happy  marriage  threw  around  him  the  charms 
of  domestic  bliss ;  and  he  made  no  effort  to  leave  Switzerland 
until  the  accession  of  Edward  VI.  The  parting  with  those 
friends  who  had  succoured  him  in  his  time  of  need,  was  affect- 
ing. "  We  rejoice,"  said  his  friends,  "  both  for  your  sake  and 
especially  for  the  cause  of  Christ's  true  religion,  that  you  shall 
now  return  out  of  long  banishment  into  your  native  country 
again,  where  not  only  you  may  enjoy  your  own  private  liberty, 
but  also  the  cause  and  state  of  Christ's  church  by  you  may  fare  the 
better,  as  we  doubt  not  but  it  will.  One  fear  and  care  we  have, 
lest  you,  being  absent  and  so  far  distant  from  us,  or  else,  com- 
ing to  such  abundance  of  wealth  and  felicity  in  your  new  wel- 
fare, and  plenty  of  all  things,  and  in  your  flourishing  honours, 
where  you  shall  come,  peradventure,  to  be  a  bishop,  and  where 
you  shall  find  so  many  new  friends,  you  will  forget  us,  your 
old  acquaintance  and  well-wishers.  Nevertheless,  rest  assured 
of  this,  that,  though  you  should  forget  and  shake  us  off,  we 
will  not  forget  our  old  friend  and  fellow-helper,  Mr.  Hooper." 

On  arriving  in  England,  Hooper  repaired  to  London,  where 
he  entered  immediately  upon  the  work  of  the  ministry,  preach- 
ing every  day  to  large  audiences.      "  In  his   sermons,"  says 


JOHN   HOOPER.  V2l 

Fox,  "  according  to  his  accustomed  manner,  he  corrected  sin, 
and  sharply  inveighed  against  the  iniquity  of  the  world  and 
the  corrupt  abuses  of  the  church."  He  thus  gained  the  notice 
of  the  Protestant  leaders,  and,  as  his  friends  at  Zurich  had 
foreseen,  was  chosen  for  a  vacant  bishopric — that  of  Gloucester — 
"as  well  for  his  great  knowledge,  deep  judgment,  and  long 
study,  both'in  the  Scriptures  and  profane  learning,  as  also  for 
his  good  discretion,  ready  utterance,  and  honest  life,  for  that 
kind  of  vocation."  But  scarcely  had  the  appointment  been 
made,  than  a  new  pretence  for  persecution  was  made.  Hooper 
demanded  to  appear  in  a  simple  garb,  like  that  of  the  Swiss 
reformers.  The  English  prelates  insisted  upon  the  long  gown, 
the  cowl,  and  similar  articles.  The  stronger  party  triumphing. 
Hooper  was  successively  confined  to  his  house,  committed  to 
Cranmer's  custody,  and  sent  to  the  fleet.  But  at  length  the 
scruples  of  his  persecutors  were  overcome,  and  Hooper  entered 
upon  the  duties  of  his  office.  His  earnest  and  unvarying  zeal 
won  the  love  and  admiration  of  the  people.  The  time  not  oc- 
cupied in  preaching  he  employed  in  visiting  his  hearers,  visiting 
schools,  hearing  public  cause,  or  in  private  devotion.  In  the 
domestic  circle,  he  was  a  pattern  of  the  Christian  pastor,  and, 
when  his  revenue  surpassed  his  expenses,  he  bestowed  the  sur- 
plus upon  the  poor.  <'  Twice,"  says  Fox,  "  I  was  in  his  house 
at  Worcester,  where,  in  his  common  hall,  I  saw  a  table  spread 
with  good  store  of  meat,  and  beset  full  of  beggars  and  poor 
people  ;  and,  on  asking  his  servants  what  this  meant,  they  told  me 
that  every  day  their  master's  manner  was  to  have  at  dinner  a 
certain  number  of  the  poor  of  the  city  by  course,  who  were  served 
with  wholesome  meat,  after  being  examined  by  him  and  deputies 
of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  Articles  of  Faith,  &c." 

The  usefulness  of  Hooper  was  suspended,  and  the  prospects 
of  Protestantism  clouded  by  the  death  of  Edward.  Hooper 
was  advised  to  flee.  He  intrepidly  answered,  "  Once  did  I  flee 
and  take  me  to  my  feet ;  but  now  because  I  am  called  to  this  place 
and  vocation,  I  am  thoroughly  persuaded  to  tarry,  and  to  live 
and  die  with  my  sheep."  He  was  among  the  first  who  were 
seized,  on  the  accession  of  Mary.  While  on  the  way  to  answer 
a  summons  from  Heath  and  Bonner,  he  was  intercepted  and 
ordered  before  the  queen.  At  her  council,  he  was  angrily 
questioned  by  Gardiner  and  others  concerning  his  marriage, 
16  L 


122  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

(scandalous  in  Romish  eyes,)  his  doctrines,  and  his  ecclesiasti- 
cal course.  He  answered  calmly  and  clearly,  was  refused  the 
privilege  of  defending  his  opinions,  or  of  discussion,  and  de- 
clared "  worthy  to  be  deprived  of  his  bishopric."  From  the 
council  he  was  taken  to  the  fleet,  where  he  was  <'  treated  with 
such  inhumanity  that  the  disease  which  ill  usage,  a  damp  prison, 
and  foul  air  produced,  had  nearly  prevented  the  purpose  of  his 
enemies.  The  names  of  those  persons  who  relieved  him  there 
with  alms  were  taken  by  the  jailer  to  Gardiner,  to  bring  on 
their  ruin." 

During  his  imprisonment.  Hooper  and  a  fellow-prisoner,  the 
eminent  Rogers,  were  sometimes  brought  out  for  examination 
As  they  passed  along,  the  people  crowded  around,  invoking 
their  blessing,  rejoicing  in  their  constancy,  and  secretly  de- 
nouncing their  persecutors.  To  suppress  such  demonstrations 
without  resorting  to  force,  the  Romanists  circulated  reports 
that  Hooper  and  others  had  acknowledged  and  abjured  their 
errors.  Bonner  gave  countenance  to  it  by  frequently  visiting 
their  cells.  Many  of  the  Protestants  were  shocked  and  dis- 
tressed at  this  apostasy  of  their  leaders.  Hearing  of  the  re- 
port. Hooper  wrote  a  letter  to  his  people,  lamenting  that  they 
should  think  him  capable  of  such  wickedness,  and,  though  in 
prospect  of  death,  triumphing  in  the  support  of  his  Redeemer, 
He  asserted  that  the  frequent  conferences  of  Bonner  only 
strengthened  his  Protestant  faith  ;  whereas,  had  he  refused  to 
confer  with  that  bishop,  it  might  be  seized  as  an  opportunity 
to  denounce  him  as  unlearned  or  stubborn.  "  It  were  better 
for  them,"  he  says,  "  to  pray  for  us  than  to  credit  or  report 
such  rumours.  We  have  enough  of  such  as  know  not  God 
truly ;  but  the  false  report  of  weak  brethren  is  a  double  cross. 
I  have  taught  the  truth  with  my  tongue  and  with  my  pen  here- 
tofore, and  hereafter  shortly  shall  confirm  the  same,  by  God's 
grace,  with  my  blood." 

Three  days  after,  Hooper,  in  custody  of  six  of  the  queen's 
guards,  was  sent  to  Gloucester  to  be  burnt.  By  a  refinement 
of  cruelty,  Mary  had  appointed  Sir  Anthony  Kingston,  one  of 
Hooper's  personal  friends,  to  oversee  the  execution.  At  sight 
of  his  friend,  Kingston  burst  into  tears,  and  begged  him  to  save 
himself  by  submission  to  the  queen.  Finding  his  entreaties 
vain.  Sir  Anthony  departed,  thanking  God  that  he  had  ever 


JOHN   HOOPER.  12b 

known  Hooper.  The  mayor  and  aldermen  of  Gloucester  sa- 
luted their  old  bishop  respectfully,  and,  at  the  request  oi  his 
guards,  he  was  lodged  in  a  private  house.  Retiring  early  to 
bed,  he  slept  soundly,  rose  at  an  early  hour,  and,  as  his  execu- 
tion was  to  take  place  that  morning,  requested  to  be  left  alone 
until  the  fatal  hour.  He  had  been  forbidden  to  speak  ;  but,  as 
he  passed  from  the  house  to  the  market-place,  amid  a  crowd  of 
six  thousand  persons,  many  of  whom  he  knew,  he  frequently 
smiled  and  looked  toward  heaven.  As  if  to  poison  every  barb 
of  the  sting  of  death,  the  stake  had  been  erected  near  an  elm 
tree  in  front  of  the  cathedral  where  he  formerly  preached. 
On  reaching  it,  he  kneeled  to  pray.  'A  box,  containing  his 
pardon,  the  price  of  recantation,  was  presented  to  him.  '<  If 
you  love  my  soul,"  he  cried,  ''take  it  away."  Lord  Ohandos, 
w^ho  superintended  the  execution,  ordered  away  the  people  who 
were  crowding  on  the  ground,  in  trees,  and  on  each  other,  to 
catch  the  words  of  their  pastor's  prayer.  His  neck,  body,  and 
limbs,  were  fastened  to  the  stake  with  hoops  of  iron.  He  was 
raised  upon  a  high  stool,  and  soon  the  mass  was  in  flames.  His 
Bufferings  were  lingering  and  excruciating ;  but,  until  his  voice 
was  choked,  he  called  calmly,  yet  earnestly,  for  strength  from 
heaven.  "  He  died,"  says  an  old  writer,  "  as  quietly  as  a  child 
in  his  bed." 

A  memoir  of  this  eminent  man  cannot  be  closed  better  than 
in  the  words  of  a  letter  which  he  wrote  to  his  wife  just  before 
his  execution,  and  from  which  may  be  learned  the  source  of  his 
constancy  and  Christian  heroism.  "  The  troubles  be  not  yet 
generally  as  they  were  soon  after  the  death  and  resurrection  of 
our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  whereof  he  spoke  in  St.  Matthew,  of 
which  place  you  and  I  have  taken  many  times  great  consola- 
tion, and  especially  of  the  latter  part  of  the  chapter,  wherein 
is  contained  the  last  day  and  end  of  all  troubles  for  you  and 
me.  Remember,  therefore,  that  place,  and  mark  it  again,  and 
you  shall  in  this  time  Sf-o  this  great  consolation,  and  also  learn 
much  patience.  Were  there  ever  such  troubles  as  Christ 
threatened  upon  Jerusalem  ?  Even  so  doth  the  merciful  Father 
lay  upon  us  now  imprisonments,  and,  as  I  suppose,  for  my  part, 
shortly  death ;  now  spoil  of  goods,  loss  of  friends,  and,  the 
greatest  loss  of  all,  the  knowledge  of  God's  word." 


124 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JOHN   CALVIN. 


'ALVIN  was  born  in  Noyon,  in  Picardy,  July 
10,  1509.     His  original  name  was  Chauvin, 
which,  in  conformity  with  the  custom  of  that 
age,  he  Latinized  into  the  term  by  which  he 
is  now  known.     His  father,  Gerard  Chauvin, 
though  a  cooper  by  trade,   dedicated  his  son 
at  an   early  age  to   the  church;  and,  accord- 
ing to  the  reformer's  own  statement,  he  was  in- 
debted to  Claude   d'Haugest  for  the  rudiments 
of  learning,  and  subsequently  for  a  more  liberal 
education.     He  had  not  at  an  early  age  to  struggle, 
like   Luther,   with  poverty  and   oppression.     When 
scarcely  twelve  years  old,  a  benefice  was  extended  to 
him  in  the  church  of  his  native  city;  six  years  after 
he  received  a  cure,  from  which  in  no  long  time  he  ad- 
vanced to  a  better.     Benefactors  seemed  to  favour  him 
on  all  sides;  and  before  his  twentieth  year,  while  yet  in  his 
studies,  he  had  enjoyed  several  benefices,  together  with  the  office 
and  income  of  cure. 

Calvin  received  his  first  ideas  of  the  new  doctrine  from  one 
Peter  Olivetan,  a  townsman,  who  appears  to  have  watched  with 
interest  the  introduction  of  the  Reformation  in  France.  What 
may  appear  singular,  Calvin  now  abandoned  the  study  of  the- 
ology, and  repairing  to  Orleans,  afterwards  to  Bourges,  devoted 
himself  to  law.  At  the  same  time,  Melchior  Volmar,  a  German, 
taught  him  Greek.  He  resigned  his  benefices  in  1532,  and 
shortly  afterwards  published  a  Latin  commentary  on  Seneca. 
In  the  following  year,  the  persecution  of  his  friend  Cop,  for  a 
discourse  in  favour  of  the  reformed  doctrines,  involved  Calvin 
in  a  suspicion  of  heresy,  and  he  fled  to  Angoul^me.  Here,  at 
the  house  of  a  canon  named  Du  Tillet,  he  continued  his  studies, 
and  began   to   collect  materials  for  his  Christian  Institution, 


JOHN  CALVIN. 


JOHN   CALVIN.  125 

published  two  years  after.  He  next  visited  Margaret  of  Na- 
varre at  Nerac,  where  he  was  well  received,  and  where  he 
became  acquainted  with  many  learned  men.  Venturing  to  visit 
Paris  in  1534,  he  was  again  persecuted  and  obliged  to  flee. 
Retiring  to  Basle,  he  published  his  Christian  Institution,  under 
the  form  of  the  confession  of  faith  of  those  persecuted  in  France, 
and  designed  to  refute  the  assertion  that  they  were  rebels,  and 
Anabaptists.  Besides  examining  the  doctrine  of  free  will  and 
of  the  merit  of  good  works,  Calvin  in  this  treatise  attacks  the 
supremacy  of  the  pope  and  the  authority  of  general  councils ; 
denies  that  a  priest  or  bishop  is  any  more  than  a  visible  head 
of  the  church ;  denies  the  efficacy  of  all  vows  and  sacraments, 
save  baptism  and  the  Lord's  supper;  and  considers  neither 
those  nor  any  other  symbol  essential  to  salvation.  The  power- 
ful reasoning  of  this  book  was  insufficient  to  stop  the  persecu- 
tion, which,  under  the  politic  Francis  I.,  raged  to  such  excess  as 
to  threaten  civil  war.  Abandoning  his  own  country,  Calvin 
went  to  England,  where  he  was  well  received  by  the  Duchess 
Renata,  daughter  of  Louis  XII.  of  France ;  but  coming  under 
cognisance  of  the  Catholic  authorities,  he  was  again  forced  to 
fly.  After  visiting  Paris,  he  retired  to  Basle,  where  he  asso- 
ciated with  the  reformer  Farel  in  establishing  the  Protestant 
religion.  While  Farel  laboured  in  the  pulpit,  Calvin  instructed 
the  people  in  theology.  At  this  time  the  Church  of  Greneva 
used  leavened  bread  in  the  eucharist,  removed  the  baptismal 
font,  and  abolished  all  holy-days  except  the  Sabbath.  These 
measures  were  censured  by  the  Synod  of  Lausanne.  Farel  and 
Calvin,  having  defended  the  innovations,  were  ordered  by  the 
magistrates  of  Geneva  to  comply  with  the  action  of  the  synod 
or  to  leave  the  city  in  three  days.  They  left,  (April,  1538,) 
and  retired  to  Berne.  From  this  place  Calvin  went  to  Stras- 
burg,  where  he  was  kindly  received  by  Bucer,  and  appointed 
professor  of  theology. 

At  Strasburg,  Calvin  was  treated  with  great  distinction,  both 
by  the  authorities  and  the  people.  To  provide  an  asylum  for 
the  French  fugitives,  he  erected  a  French  church,  which  was 
soon  crowded  with  worshippers.  In  1540,  he  published  his 
work  on  the  Lord's  Supper,  in  which  he  endeavours  to  refute 
the  opinion  both  of  Luther,  who  regarded  the  ordinance  in  a 
literal  view,   and    of  Zuinglius,   who   understood  it  typically. 

l2 


lL>t5  LIVES    OF    EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

About  the  same  time  he  in  two  letters  exhorted  the  inhabitants 
of  Geneva  to  remain  faithful  to  the  new  doctrines.  The  feelings 
of  the  Genevese  had  undergone  a  change  since  his  flight,  so 
that  Cardinal  Sadolet  invited  him  to  return  to  his  church;  and 
in  1541,  a  deputation  from  the  magistrates  induced  the  au- 
thorities of  Strasburg  to  permit  his  recall.  Calvin's  duties  as 
deputy  to  the  Frankfort  Diet,  and  to  the  Ratisbon  Conference, 
hindered  him  from  complying  until  September. 

On  returning  to  Geneva,  Calvin  applied  himself  with  increased 
zeal  to  the  work  of  the  ministry.  Agreeable  to  his  draft  of 
ordinances  concerning  church  discipline,  which  was  immediately 
accepted  by  the  council,  a  consistory,  half  lay,  half  clerical,  was 
formed  for  the  purpose  of  watching  over  morals  and  '<  over  the  sup- 
port of  the  true  doctrine."  The  manner  in  which  the  consistory, 
inspired  and  urged  by  Calvin,  performed  these  duties,  deserves 
severe  censure ;  and  the  part  which  Calvin  took  in  the  examina- 
tion and  persecution  of  those  opposed  to  him  in  doctrine,  is  a 
melancholy  proof  of  the  influence  of  a  bad  age  and  a  spirit  of 
illiberality  upon  a  good  character.  A' magistrate  was  deposed 
and  condemned  to  two  months'  imprisonment,  because  his  life 
was  irregular,  and  he  was  connected  with  the  enemies  of  Calvin. 
One  Gruet  was  beheaded,  "because  he  had  written  profane 
letters  and  obscene  verses,  and  endeavoured  to  overthrow  the 
ordinances  of  the  church."  Michael  Servetus,  while  passing 
through  Geneva,  in  1553,  was  arrested,  and  on  Calvin's  accusa- 
tion that  in  a  book  elsewhere  published,  he  had  attacked  the 
mystery  of  the  Trinity,  was  burnt.  Let  us  remember  that 
Calvin's  age  was  the  age  of  persecution;  that  his  country  was 
the  country  of  persecution ;  and  that  at  an  early  age,  his  mind 
had  been  chafed  and  hardened  by  persecution.  Circumstances 
may  ameliorate  where  they  cannot  justify  an  action. 

At  the  same  time  Calvin  actively  engaged  in  works  of  useful- 
ness, lie  preached  almost  daily,  delivered  three  theological 
lectures  in  a  week,  attended  all  deliberations  of  the  consistory, 
all  sittings  of  the  clerical  association,  all  meetings  of  the  coun- 
cils, transacted  various  political  affairs,  published  commentaries 
on  the  Bible,  and  numerous  other  writings,  and  maintained  a 
corre«5pondence  with  almost  all  the  important  men  of  Europe. 
Of  his  sermons  in  manuscript   alone,  the  library  of  Geneva 


JOHN  CALVIN.  127 

contains  more  than  two  thousand.  He  died  on  the  27th  of 
May,  1561,  in  the  fifty-fifth  year  of  his  age. 

In  a  history  of  the  Reformation,  the  names  of  Calvin  and 
Luther  are  always  associated  together ;  yet  all  regard  them  as 
antagonistic  in  the  controverted  points  of  religion.  The  essence 
of  Calvin's  creed  consisted  in  what  are  called  the  five  points — 
total  depravity,  irresistible  grace,  predestination,  particular 
redemption,  and  the  certain  perseverance  of  the  saints.  Not- 
withstanding his  adherence  to  these  points,  his  followers  were 
not  recognised  as  a  distinct  ecclesiastical  body  until  the  Con- 
ference of  Poissy,  in  1561,  when  they  rejected  some  portions  of 
the  Confession  of  Augsburg,  and  henceforward  assumed  the 
name  of  Calvinists.  The  sect  is  still  powerful  in  Germany  and 
France  ;  and  Calvinism,  in  various  degrees  of  purity,  is  the 
established  belief  of  Presbyterians,  Congregationalists,  the 
Independent  churches,  and  perhaps  the  greater  portion  of  the 
Baptist  church.  Calvin  has  been  alternately  over-praised  and 
over-abused  by  theological  writers ;  and  much  confusion  and 
uncertainty  still  exist  with  regard  to  his  peculiar  structure  of 
some  tenets,  and  the  extent  to  which  he  carried  others.  The 
only  way  in  which  doubt  could  be  removed,  and  praise  or  cen- 
sure justly  awarded,  would  be  to  examine  an  impartial  synopsis 
of  his  labours  and  writings ;  but  unfortunately  for  the  cause  of 
truth,  no  such  synopsis  has  as  yet  appeared. 

Calvin's  constitution  was  weakly,  and  he  suffered  from  fre- 
quent sickness,  aggravated  no  doubt  by  heavy  labour.  He  was 
temperate  in  habits,  gloomy  and  inflexible  in  disposition.  He 
married  in  1539  ;  but  his  wife  died  ten  years  after.  He  pos- 
sessed very  imperfectly  those  qualities  necessary  to  true  friend- 
ship, and  his  highest  passion  appears  to  have  been  in  the  propa- 
gation of  those  opinions  believed  by  him  to  be  correct.  Im- 
petuous and  petulant,  he  was  obliged  to  maintain  a  constant 
struggle  in  order  to  avoid  the  sin  of  anger.  <'  I  have,"  he  writes, 
"  no  harder  battles  against  my  sins,  which  are  great  and  numer- 
ous, than  those  in  which  I  seek  to  conquer  my  impatience.  I 
have  not  yet  gained  the  mastery  over  this  raging  beast."  But 
his  sincere  thirst  for  truth,  and  the  zeal  with  which  he  spoke 
and  laboured  for  its  propagation,  were,  if  not  the  cause,  at  least 
the  excuse  for  these  failings.  As  a  theologian,  he  was  surpassed 
by  no  man  of  his  age  in  acuteness  of  intellect,  deep  knowledge, 


128  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

and  dialectical  skill.  As  a  sectarian  author,  he  stands  among 
the  first  rank  either  in  Latin  or  French.  He  was  also  an  able 
jurist  and  politician.  Among  the  reformers  of  that  eventful 
age,  he  ranks  with  the  most  daring  and  successful.  By  rejecting 
all  religious  ceremonies,  and  refusing  to  compromise  even  on 
the  least  essential  points,  he  rallied  round  him  the  highly  culti- 
vated minds  who  regarded  all  religious  forms  as  mummery,  and 
the  large  class  of  unlearned,  who  delighted  in  novelty  and  rejoiced 
in  being  as  far  as  possible  from  the  old  church.  He  is  Becond 
only  to  Luther  in  his  posthumous  influence. 


THEODORE    BEZA. 


129 


THEODORE   BEZA. 


EZA,  or  De  Beze,  was  born  of  noble  parent- 
age at  Yezelaj,  in  Burgundy,  June  24,  1519. 
Like  Calvin,  he  studied  at  Orleans,  under  the 
German  philologer,  Melchior  Volmar,  and 
became,  at  an  early  age,  familiar  with  the 
ancient  literature.  At  the  age  of  twenty,  he 
■  was  made  a  licentiate  of  law,  when  his  family 
invited  him  to  Paris,  and  an  uncle  conferred 
upon  him  the  abbey  of  Froidmond.  He  was 
likewise  in  possession  of  a  deceased  brother's  pro- 
perty, and  two  benefices.  It  was  at  this  early  age 
that  he  appeared  as  an  author,  in  the  Juvenalia,  a 
collection  of  poems,  uniting  considerable  wit  with 
much  petulance,  and  of  which  he  Avas  afterwards 
ashamed.  Although  he  was  at  this  time  dissipated, 
yet  his  talents,  his  fine  figure,  and  his  extensive  and 
honourable  connections,  opened  to  him  the  most  splendid  pros- 
pects. Tn  1543  he  married  secretly — a  step  which  exerted  a 
favourable  influence  upon  his  morals.  While  at  Orleans,  he 
had  adopted  as  truth  the  reformed  doctrines,  and  formed  a 
resolution  which,  in  all  his  irregularity,  was  never  entirely  lost 
sight  of,  to  devote  himself  to  their  propagation.  Severe  ill- 
ness, some  time  after  marriage,  revived  and  strengthened  this 
resolution.  On  recovering,  he  left  Paris  (1547)  and  repaired  to 
Geneva.  A  professorship  of  the  Greek  language  at  Lausanne 
was  offered  to  him.  He  accepted  it,  and,  during  ten  years' 
residence  at  that  place,  his  productions  were  various  and  im- 
portant. Among  them  were  the  Sacrifice  of  Abraham,  a  tragi- 
comic drama,  written  in  French,  a  Latin  translation  of  the  New 
Testament,  and  a  translation  of  the  Psalms  in  French  verse. 
During  the  same  period,  he  delivered  lectures  on  the  Epistle  to 
the  Romans  and  the  Epistles  of  Peter.  AVhen  Servetus  was 
17 


130  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

burnt  for  the  alleged  crime  of  attacking  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity,  Beza  published  a  defence  of  the  measure,  and  this,  with 
some  other  writings  on  Predestination,  the  Communion,  the 
Punishment  of  Heretics  by  Magistrates,  &c.,  introduced  him  to 
the  notice  and  favour  of  Calvin.  In  1558,  he  was  deputed  by 
the  Calvinists  of  Switzerland  to  obtain  the  intercession  of  the 
Protestant  princes  of  Germany  in  behalf  of  the  Huguenot  pri- 
soners at  Paris,  and  his  mission  to  the  court  of  Anthony,  King 
of  Navarre,  was  on  the  same  errand.  In  the  religious  confer- 
ence at  Poissy,  (1561,)  he  advocated  the  rights  of  his  party 
with  an  energy,  presence  of  mind,  and  talent,  which  won  the 
admiration  of  his  opponents.  In  the  following  year,  he  de- 
nounced image  worship  at  the  St.  Germain  conference.  While 
in  Paris,  he  sometimes  preached  before  the  Queen  of  Navarre 
and  the  Prince  of  Cond^.  During  the  civil  war,  he  acted  as 
chaplain  to  the  prince,  and,  when  the  latter  was  captured,  Beza 
joined  Admiral  Coligni. 

In  1563,  Beza  returned  to  Geneva.  The  comparative  politi- 
cal tranquillity  of  Switzerland  enabled  him  to  devote  much  of 
his  time  to  theological  subjects,  so  that  he  engaged  in  various 
controversies  in  support  of  the  Calvinistic  doctrine.  On  Cal- 
vin's death,  (1564,)  Beza  succeeded  to  his  dignity  and  influ- 
ence, being  considered  the  greatest  theologian  in  the  church. 
In  1571,  he  presided  in  the  Synod  of  La  Rochelle,  and  in  the 
following  year  in  that  of  Nismes.  Fourteen  years  after,  we 
find  him  opposing  the  theologians  of  Wurtemburg  in  the  reli- 
gious conference  at  Montpelier.  When  sixty-nine  years  old, 
(1588,)  this  remarkable  man  married  a  second  wife.  At  this 
period  he  repelled,  with  the  energy  and  vivacity  of  youth,  the 
assaults  and  calumnies  of  his  sectarian  and  personal  opponents. 
In  1597,  the  Jesuits  circulated  a  report  that  he  had  died,  and 
in  the  Catholic  faith.  Beza  defeated  the  object  of  this  false- 
hood by  publishing  a  satirical  poem  ;  while,  at  the  same  time, 
he  resisted  the  efforts  of  St.  Francis  de  Sales  and  the  oifers  of 
the  pope  to  convert  or  buy  him  to  Catholicism.  In  1600,  while 
on  a  visit  to  Henry  IV.  in  the  territory  of  Geneva,  he  was 
presented  by  that  sovereign  with  five  hundred  ducats.  Though 
then  enfeebled  by  age,  he  continued  to  labour  with  great  assi- 
duity in  the  cause  of  Protestantism,  until  October  13,  1605, 
when  he  expired  of  old  age. 


THEODORE   BEZA.  131 

Next  to  Calvin,  Beza  is  esteemed  by  the  Calvinists  as  the 
apostle  of  their  oreed.  The  associate  and  disciple  of  Calvin, 
and  an  ardent  advocate  of  his  doctrines,  he  seems  to  have  in- 
herited the  mantle  which  fell  from  that  great  m^m  at  his  death. 
It  seems  probable  that  his  judgment  disagreed  with  Calvin's  on 
several  important  points ;  but  he  was  willing  to  remain  silent 
on  these,  rather  than  disturb  the  unity  and  prospects  of  the 
infant  church.  From  this  we  may  infer  that  his  spirit  was 
more  liberal  and  his  actions  more  tolerant  than  those  of  his 
teacher.  It  is  a  well-authenticated  fact,  that  his  fine  personal 
appearance  added  considerably  to  the  influence  which  he  ex- 
erted over  enemies  as  well  as  friends  ;  while  his  zeal,  activity, 
eloquence,  and  varied  learning,  enabled  him  to  resist  success- 
fully every  attack  upon  his  doctrines  or  himself.  In  argument 
he  was  as  severe  and  obstinate  as  Calvin.  His  writings,  ex- 
planatory of  Scripture,  are  still  esteemed ;  and  the  History  of 
Calvinism  in  France,  from  1521  to  1563,  which  is  ascribed  to 
him,  is  a  valuable  work.  His  correspondence  was  extensive, 
and,  during  the  forty  years  that  he  presided  over  the  church 
of  Geneva,  no  important  step  was  taken  by  it  without  his 
approbation. 

The  following  notice  of  Beza  occurs  in  Mrs.  Marsh's  History 
of  the  Reformation  in  France : 

"  Calvin  had  refused  to  appear  at  the  colloquy  of  Poissy,  and 
had  nominated  Theodore  de  Beze,  or  Beza,  to  represent  him. 
Beza  belonged  to  a  noble  family  of  the  Nivernais,  and  had  been 
educated  at  Bourges  by  the  same  Melchior  Valmor,  who  is  sup- 
posed to  have  converted  Calvin.  His  youth  had  been  one  of 
licentious  indulgence,  which,  unfortunately,  some  early  poetical 
publications  had  rendered  notorious ;  but,  at  two  and  thirty,  a 
dangerous  illness  had  occasioned  serious  reflections.  He  em- 
braced the  reformed  religion,  sold  his  benefices,  married,  and 
retired  to  Genc-va.  Here  Calvin,  who  soon  became  aware  of 
his  merits  and  abilities,  received  him.  After  some  years'  pro- 
bation, he  was  associated  with  himself  in  the  ministry,  and 
looked  upon  as  his  successor,  somewhat  to  the  surprise  and  in- 
dignation, it  must  be  confessed,  of  the  other  ministers,  who 
regarded  Beza  at  first  as  little  more  than  a  wit  and  man  of  the 
world.  But  these  sentiments  were  of  short  duration.  His 
piety  and  regularity  were  unquestionable ;    in  erudition  he  sur- 


1S«>  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

passed  them  all,  and  the  elegance  and  facility  of  his  style,  the 
beauty  of  his  person,  and  the  grace  and  politeness  of  his  man- 
ners served  to  recommend,  in  a  remarkable  degree,  the  doctrine 
he  taught,  and  rendered  him  particularly  useful  in  the  conduct 
of  those  negotiations  with  foreign  princes,  in  which  the  re- 
formed churches  were  so  frequently  engaged.  He  no  sooner 
appeared  at  St.  Germains,  than  his  manners  and  accomplish- 
ments threw  into  the  shade  all  the  other  ministers  who  accom- 
panied him." 

At  the  colloquy  of  Poissy,  assembled  with  a  view  to  recon 
cile  the  Huguenots  to  the  Catholic  church,  the  Cardinal  of  Lor- 
raine prepared  a  snare  to  entrap  and  confound  Beza.  He  ex- 
tracted from  certain  books  of  the  reformers  a  formula  of  faith, 
containing  expressions  on  the  Eucharist,  to  which  he  knew 
Beza  and  the  ministers  present  would  not  assent,  and  summoned 
him  to  declare  upon  the  following  day  whether  he  w^ould  adopt 
the  formula  or  not. 

"  The  embarrassment  of  the  ministers  was  great.  It  was 
impossible  to  sign  the  formula,  at  the  risk  of  being  disavowed 
by  their  own  churches.  On  the  other  hand,  they  felt  that  a 
refusal  would  afford  the  cardinal  a  pretext  for  breaking  up  the 
conferences,  and  would  throw  a  stigma  upon  Calvin  as  the  au- 
thor of  this  paper — a  paper  the  publication  of  which,  though 
written  in  a  spirit  of  conciliation,  he  had,  in  fact,  ever  after- 
wards regretted.  The  address  of  Beza  extricated  them  from 
this  dilemma.  When  called  upon  for  his  answer,  he  said  that, 
before  he  and  his  brothers  declared  their  opinion  upon  this 
formula,  they  wished  to  know  whether  it  was  presented  by  the 
cardinal  in  his  own  name  alone,  or  in  that  of  the  assembly  of 
the  clergy,  as  a  means  of  reconciliation.  The  cardinal  an- 
swered that  it  had  not  been  necessary  to  consult  the  assembly. 
Beza  asked  whether  the  paper  contained  the  cardinal's  own 
confession,  and  whether  he  were  himself  ready  to  sign  it.  The 
cardinal,  indignant  to  find  himself  thus  questioned,  replied  an- 
grily that  they  appeared  to  forget  who  he  was ;  that  they  ought 
to  know  that  he  borrowed  his  opinions  from  no  one,  least  of  all 
from  their  divines.  Beza  quietly  replied,  '  If  the  matter  stand 
thus,  how  can  this  paper  produce  conciliation  ?  and  to  what  pur- 
pose shall  we  attach  our  signatures  to  a  writing  that  neither  you 
nor  any  of  your  bishops  will  subscribe  ?'  " 


JOHN   ROBINSON 


133 


JOHN   EOBINSON. 


HIS  clergyman,  who  may  be  considered  the 
father  of  our  New  England  settlements,  was 
orn  in  1575,  in  some  part  of  England,  and 
appears  to  have  been  educated  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Cambridge.     He  was  at  an  early 
age  described  as  of  a  learned,  polished  and 
modest  spirit ;  pious  and  studious  of  the  truth, 
largely  accomplished  with  gifts  and  qualifications, 
suitable  to  be  a  shepherd  over  the  flock  of  Christ. 
;  received  a  benefice  near  Yarmouth ;  and  in 
2,  was   invited  by  a  congregation  of   Puritans, 
the  counties  of  York  and  Lincoln,  to  become  their 
pastor.       He  accepted  the  ofi"er,  and  with  Richard 
Clifton,   the  associate   pastor,  entered  zealously  upon 
he  work  of  truth. 
We  need  but  hint  at,  without  describing,  the  condition 
of  the  English  seceders,  during  the  reign  of  James  I.     In  the 
general   persecution   of  their  difi'erent   sects,   Robinson's   con- 
gregations endured  their  full  share.      Some  were  driven  from 
their  farms  and  their  trades;  some  were  confined  to  their  houses ; 
some  were  thrown  into  prison.     Despised,  vilified,  hunted  like 
dogs,   they  collected  in  small  bands  and  fled  to  other  lands. 
Government  perceived  it,  and  shut  their  ports  against  them; 
but  by  concealment,  or  the  payment  of  extravagant  rates  to  the 
seamen,  many  contrived  to  reach  the  continent.     Holland  was 
their  foster  home;  for  in  that  country  was  enjoyed,  what  the 
people  of  no  other  European  kingdom  enjoyed — toleration  of 
religious  opinions.     The  sufi'erings  of  these  fugitives  were  ex- 
treme.    In  1607,  some  of  them  hired  a  ship  in  Boston,  Lin- 
colnshire, and   engaged  a  captain  or  master  to  take  them  to 
Holland.     When  they  had  embarked,  he  betrayed  them  to  the 


134  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

government  officers.  Thej  robbed  them  of  their  money,  books, 
and  other  articles,  insulted  the  women,  and  carrying  them  back 
to  the  town,  exposed  them  to  the  derision  of  the  populace.  In 
the  following  year,  they  hired  a  Dutch  vessel,  and  though  the 
women  were  weak  and  sickly,  remained  out  a  day  in  rough 
weather,  waiting  till  they  could  embark.  One  boat-load  had 
gained  the  deck,  when  a  compan}^  of  armed  mounted  men  ap- 
peared, and  the  captain  immediately  put  to  sea.  Those  on 
shore,  including  all  the  women,  were  taken  before  magistrates, 
who  dismissed  them.  Having  sold  their  lands,  goods,  and 
cattle,  they  were  obliged  to  depend  upon  charity.  Their 
friends,  after  having  being  driven  far  north  by  a  terrible  storm, 
arrived  at  Amsterdam.  They  were  subsequently  joined  by  their 
friends  and  families. 

It  was  this  band  of  emigrants,  that  Mr.  Robinson,  with  the 
remainder  of  the  Independent  Puritans,  joined  in  the  fol- 
lowing year.  He  found  there  another  congregation,  that  had 
come  from  England  a  considerable  time  before  his  own,  and  was 
conducted  by  Mr.  John  Smith.  This  man  appears  to  have  been 
unsteady  in  his  opinions,  and,  though  unwillingly,  induced  most 
of  his  flock  to  scatter.  Fearing  that  the  example  might  become 
contagious,  Robinson  proposed  to  his  congregation  to  remove 
to  Leyden.  This  they  did  one  year  after  their  arrival  at  Am- 
sterdam ;  and  at  their  new  place  of  residence  they  remained 
eleven  years.  Here  they  enjoyed  harmony  among  themselves, 
maintained  friendly  intercourse  with  the  Dutch,  and  swelled 
so  largely  in  numbers  as  at  length  to  number  three  hundred 
communicants. 

Some  incidents  with  which  Robinson  was  personally  connected, 
soon  after  his  arrival  in  Leyden,  are  deserving  of  notice.  In 
1609,  occurred  the  death  of  Arminius,  founder  of  the  Armenian 
school  of  doctrine.  His  successor,  Episcopius,  agreed  in  opinion 
with  his  master ;  the  associate  professor,  Polyander,  defended 
Calvinism ;  and  the  controversy  between  these  men  engendered 
such  bitter  feelings,  that  the  disciples  of  one  refused  to  attend 
the  lectures  of  the  other.  Robinson  attended  the  discourses  of 
both;  carefully  weighed  the  arguments  of  each;  and,  deciding 
in  favour  of  Calvinism,  openly  preached  it  to  his  congregation. 
So  formidable  an  opponent  could  not  be  overlooked  by  the 
Armenians.      In  1G13,    Episcopius    published    several   theses, 


JOHN  ROBINSON.  135 

■^hich  he  engaged  to  defend  against  any  opponent.  Polyander 
and  others  urged  Robinson  to  accept  the  challenge ;  for  some- 
time he  declined;  but  at  length,  considering  that  it  was  hie 
duty,  he  consented.  A  day  was  appointed;  the  logical  com- 
batants appeared ;  and  in  the  presence  of  a  numerous  assembly — 
ministers,  laymen,  professors,  pupils,  commoners — the  discussion 
began.  Of  the  result  the  x\rmenians  have  transmitted  no  record ; 
but  according  to  Governor  Bradford,  a  rigid  Calvinist,  Robinson 
was  completely  successful. 

A  personal  difference  had  occurred  between  Mr.  Robinson 
and  Dr.  Ames,  on  the  subject  of  separation  from  the  Church  of 
England.  Afterwards  Ames  was  obliged  to  flee  from  the  High 
Commission  Court ;  a  free  conversation  ensued  between  him  and 
Robinson  ;  and  the  latter,  after  acknowledging  that  he  had  been 
in  error,  publicly  recanted  some  of  his  more  rigid  notions  con- 
cerning communion  with  the  High  Church.  The  doctrines  most 
strenuously  advocated  by  Robinson  were,  that  the  Scriptures, 
being  inspired,  contain  the  true  religion;  that  every  man  pos- 
sesses the  right  to  judge  of  their  meaning ;  that  by  them  alone 
doctrines  should  be  tried,  and  that  all  have  a  right  to  worship 
God  as  they  choose.  The  creeds  of  the  reformed  churches  of 
England,  France,  Geneva,  Holland,  he  recognised  as  true,  and 
admitted  their  members  in  communion.  On  minor  points  he 
contended  that  no  church  should  consist  of  more  members  than 
can  conveniently  worship  together  ;  that  any  appropriate  num- 
ber of  Christians  may  form  a  church  ;  that,  after  being  incorpo- 
rated by  some  contract  or  covenant,  expressed  or  implied,  these 
Christians  have  a  right  to  choose  their  church  officers — pastors, 
elders,  ruling  elders,  and  deacons ;  that  elders,  chosen  and 
ordained,  can  rule  the  church  only  by  consent  of  the  brethren  ; 
that  in  poAvers  and  privileges  all  churches  are  equal;  that 
though  it  was  well  to  observe  days  of  fasting  and  thanks- 
giving, no  day  was  holy  save  the  Sabbath;  that  no  merely 
human  institution  could  control  matters  of  religion,  and  that 
ecclesiastical  censures  should  not  enforce  temporal  penalties. 

Such  were  the  tenets  held  by  the  simple  fathers  of  a  future 
nation;  and  for  nine  years  they  entertained  and  preached  thera 
safely  in  Holland.  But  in  1617,  they  began  seriously  to  think 
^nf  removing.  The  language  and  habits  of  the  Dutch  were  not 
co.'igenial  to  them  ;  the  loose  observance  of  the  Sabbath  shocked 


136  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHEISTIANS. 

them  ,  ihe  climate  was  unfavourable  to  their  health,  the  countr^r 
to  their  pursuits  as  husbandmen,  the  surrounding  dissoluteness 
to  their  morals.  Opposed  to  remaining  any  longer,  and  pro- 
hibited from  returning  to  England,  thej  began  seriously  to  medi- 
tate the  founding  of  a  colony  where,  unmolested,  they  could 
pursue  their  favourite  avocations  and  enjo}^  their  favourite  reli- 
gion. The  Dutch  merchants  gladl}'  offered  to  convey  them  to 
some  distant  plantation  ;  but  though  cast  out  of  their  land  by  the 
rulers  of  that  land,  they  still  maintained  their  allegiance  to  it, 
and  refused  to  be  the  inhabitants  of  any  other.  Many  wished 
to  settle  in  Guiana,  of  which  Raleigh  had  given  glowing  accounts ; 
but  the  unhealthfulness  of  the  climate  and  the  proximity  of  the 
Spaniards  were  insuperable  objections.  At  length  the  congre- 
gation decided  upon  joining  the  colony  of  Jamestown,  in  Vir- 
ginia ;  John  Carver  and  Robert  Cushman  were  appointed  agents 
to  obtain  the  intercession  of  the  Virginia  Company  at  London 
with  King  James,  that  they  might  enjoy  liberty  of  conscience, 
in  their  new  district ;  the  Company  received  them  kindly,  and 
obtained  for  them  many  concessions.  For  obvious  reasons  their 
petition  was  not  presented  to  the  king  ;  and  the  agents  returned 
"well  pleased  to  Amsterdam.  Yet  so  distracted  were  the  councils 
of  the  Virginia  Company,  that  two  years  elapsed  before  the  ar- 
rangement for  transporting  the  Leyden  church  were  completed. 
In  1620,  preparations  were  commenced  for  embarking.  Only 
the  minor  portion  of  the  whole  number  were  able  to  go  at  once, 
and  Mr.  Robinson  remained  behind  with  the  others.  A  day  of 
prayer  had  been  held  in  the  early  part  of  the  year,  when  the 
pastor  endeavoured  to  remove  the  doubts  of  his  people  and  con- 
firm their  resolutions.  A  similar  day  was  held  in  July.  Some 
of  the  exhortations  of  Mr.  Robinson  on  this  occasion  are  worthy 
of  lasting  remembrance.  After  intimating  that  they  might 
never  again  see  him,  he  continues:  "Whether  the  Lord  hath 
appointed  that  or  not,  I  charge  you,  before  God  and  his  blessed 
angels,  that  you  foUoAv  me  no  farther  than  you  have  seen  me 
follow  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  If  God  reveal  any  thing  to  you 
by  any  other  instrument  of  his,  be  as  ready  to  receive  it  as 
ever  you  were  to  receive  any  truth  by  my  ministry.  For  my 
part,  I  cannot  sufficiently  bewail  the  condition  of  the  reformed 
churches,  who  are  come  to  a  period  in  religion,  and  will  go  at 
present  no  further  than  the  instruments  of  their  reformation. 


JOHN   ROBINSON.  137 

The  Lutherans  cannot  be  drawn  to  go  beyond  what  Luthei-  saw. 
Whatever  part  of  his  will  our  good  God  has  revealed  to  Calvin, 
they  will  rather  die  than  embrace  it.  And  the  Calvinists  you 
see  stick  fast  where  they  were  left  by  that  great  man  of  God, 
who  yet  saw  not  all  things.  I  exhort  you  to  take  heed  what 
you  receive  as  truth.  Examine  it,  consider  it,  and  compare  it 
with  other  scriptures  of  truth  before  you  receive  it ,  for  it  is  not 
possible  that  the  Christian  world  should  come  so  ''ately  out  of 
such  thick  anti-christian  darkness,  and  that  perfection  of  know- 
ledge should  break  forth  at  once." 

On  the  21st  of  July,  those  who  purposed  emigrating,  repaired 
to  Delftshaven,  where  they  embarked  on  the  following  morning. 
Here  Mr.  Robinson  dedicated  them  in  prayer  to  God,  and,  after 
mutual  benedictions,  he  and  a  portion  of  his  people  returned  to 
Leyden,  while  the  little  fleet  which  bore  the  germ  of  a  mighty 
people  held  on  its  westward  way. 

From  the  time  of  the  New  England  settlement,  Mr.  Robinson 
maintained  a  correspondence  with  his  former  people;  but  owing 
to  difficulties  and  disappointments,  he  was  unable  to  execute  his 
intention  of  visiting  them.  He  continued  to  labour  zealously 
at  Leyden,  until  February  22,  1625,  when  he  was  seized  with 
violent  ague.  Though  he  preached  twice  on  the  ensuing  Sab- 
bath, the  disorder  steadily  increased ;  and  on  the  1st  of  March 
he  expired,  in  the  fiftieth  year  of  his  age,  and  in  the  height  of 
usefulness.  He  has  been  described  as  a  man  of  good  genius, 
quick  penetration,  ready  wit,  great  modesty,  integrity  and 
candour.  His  preaching  was  instructive  and  affecting;  his 
classical  learning  and  acuteness  in  argument  were  acknowledged 
by  his  opponents.  In  manners  he  was  easy  and  obliging;  if 
convinced  of  error,  he  scrupled  not  to  acknowledge  ;  and  he  had 
learned,  what  few  in  that  age  were  willing  to  learn,  the  true 
charity  of  regarding  as  Christian  brothers,  good  men  of  all  de- 
aominations.     His  widow  and  children  removed  to  New  England 


18 


138 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JOHN   WINTHROP, 


GOVERNOR   OF  MASSACHUSETTS. 


OHN  WINTHROP,  the  first  Governor  of 
Massachusetts,  was  born  at  Groton,  in  Suf- 
folk, England,  June  12,  1587.  His  father 
was  a  lawyer  and  a  Christian,  and  his  grand- 
father, also  a  lawyer,  had  been  through  the 
persecutions  of  Henry  VIII.  and  Mary.  Win- 
^-^'  throp's  disposition  and  early  education  inclined 
to  theological  studies  ;  but  his  father  educated 
him  to  the  law ;  and  so  rapid  was  his  progress, 
that,  at  eighteen,  he  became  justice  of  the  peace. 
At  so  early  an  age  he  is  described  as  possessing 
isdom  to  discern  right  and  fortitude  to  execute  it. 
He  was  an  upright  and  impartial  magistrate,  a  cour- 
teous gentleman  and  a  sincere  Christian. 
Of  his  life  in  England  the  accounts  are  meagre. 
When  some  eminent  persons  entertained  a  design  of 
founding  a  new  colony  in  New  England,  Winthrop  was  unani- 
mously chosen  as  their  leader.  Accepting  the  invitation,  ho 
sold  an  estate  worth  seven  hundred  pounds,  and  immediately 
embarked.  He  reached  Salem  June  12,  1630,  penetrated  in  a 
few  days  into  the  country,  left  a  few  men  on  Charles  river, 
(CharlestOAvn,)  and  selected  the  peninsula  of  Shav/mut  as  the 
site  of  a  future  capital.  In  about  a  month,  the  new  colonists 
moved  northward,  and  chose  the  place  where  Cambridge  now 
stands,  intending  to  commence  building  in  the  spring.  During 
winter,  they  suffered  with  cold  ;  provisions  failing,  they  were 
obliged  to  live  upon  ground-nuts,  acorns,  and  shell-fish,  and  the 
22d  of  February  was  appointed  for  fasting  and  supplication. 
Meantime,  however,  a  vessel  with  provisions  arrived,  and  the 
day  was  celebrated  as  a  thanksgiving.  In  the  spring,  Winthrop 
and  some  others  set  up  the  frames  of  houses ;  but,  in  a  little 


JOHN   WINTHROP  OF    MASSACHUSETTS.  139 

while,  these  were  taken  down  and  removed  to  Shawmut,  which 
was  named  Boston.  The  Colony  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  as  it 
was  called,  now  went  into  full  operation,  Winthrop  being  gover- 
nor. Former  hardships  were  in  a  measure  forgotten  ;  the  In- 
dians behaved  friendly,  and  the  colonists  enjoyed  for  four  years 
the  rule  of  an  able  and  industrious  ruler. 

Our  historians  have  dwelt  with  proud  satisfaction  on  the 
social  and  public  virtues  of  Governor  Winthrop.  He  has  been 
called  the  father  of  the  infant  plantation.  His  time,  knowledge, 
means,  and  influence,  were  devoted  to  its  advancement.  He 
could  exercise  courtesy  and  condescension  without  compromis- 
ing the  dignity  of  office.  As  an  instance  of  the  hold  which  he 
]30ssessed  in  the  affections  of  the  people,  it  is  related  that,  when 
a  Mr.  Cleaves  was  summoned  before  Charles  I.  by  Archbishop 
Laud,  in  order  to  give  some  accusation  against  Winthrop,  he 
gave  such  an  account  of  the  faithfulness  and  piety  of  the  gover- 
nor, that  Charles  expressed  his  concern  that  so  worthy  a  per- 
son as  Mr.  Winthrop  should  be  no  better  accommodated  than 
in  an  American  wilderness.  To  the  people,  Winthrop  was  an 
example  of  frugality  and  temperance.  Besides  denying  him- 
self many  luxuries  of  life,  wdiich  he  might  easily  have  procured, 
he  supplied  nearly  every  day  the  houses  of  some  of  his  neigh- 
bours with  food  from  his  table.  His  patience,  wisdom,  and 
magnanimity  were  conspicuous  in  the  severest  trials ;  and  his 
Christian  virtues  threw  a  halo  of  splendour  around  his  other 
qualities. 

Winthrop  did  not  escape  the  usual  fate  of  prosperous  men — 
that  of  being  envied  and  hated  by  aspiring  characters.  Suspi- 
cions were  whispered  concerning  the  fidelity  of  his  financial 
dealings,  party  feeling  steadily  increased  against  him,  and,  in 
1634,  he  was  defeated  in  the  governorship.  The  same  result 
attended  the  elections  of  the  two  following  years.  An  inquiry, 
conducted  rather  ruthlessly,  was  instituted  into  his  receipts  and 
disbursements.  He  submitted  to  the  examination  with  praise- 
worthy humility.  The  malice  of  his  enemies  moved  every 
ongine  for  his  destruction  ;  the  evidence  of  his  innocence  was 
decisive  and  triumphant.  Nothing  could  induce  him  to  resent 
these  proceedings.  In  a  low  station,  he  served  the  colony  as 
faithfully  as  when  governor.  On  receiving  from  a  member  of 
the  court  an  angrily  written  letter,  he  returned  it  by  the  mes- 


140  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

senger,  saying,  <'  I  am  not  willing  to  keep  by  me  such  a  matter 
of  provocation."  Shortly  after,  the  writer,  on  account  of 
scarcity  of  provisions,  sent  to  buy  one  of  Winthrop's  cattle. 
Winthrop  begged  him  to  accept  it  as  a  token  of  his  good-wilL 
The  man  visited  the  generous  governor,  and  exclaimed,  "  Sir, 
your  overcoming  yourself  hath  overcome  me." 

In  religious  matters,  Winthrop  did  not  always  evince  the 
same  liberality.  His  opposition  to  the  doctrine  of  Mrs.  Hutch- 
inson, involved  him  and  the  colony  in  dissensions,  in  which  the 
acumen  of  party  feeling  was  poisoned  by  assimilation  with  feel- 
ings of  religion.  In  1636,  the  Hutchinson  party  elected  their 
candidate  for  governor,  the  celebrated  Henry  Vane.  The  en- 
suing year  was  one  of  bitter  dissension.  The  Hutchinson  party 
gained  the  majority  in  Boston.  Fearing  further  increase,  the 
court  imposed  a  penalty  on  all  who  should  entertain  strangers, 
or  allow  them  the  use  of  house  or  lot  above  three  weeks,  Avith- 
out  liberty  first  granted.  This  increased  the  popular  discon- 
tent. From  the  people,  dissatisfaction  spread  to  the  court,  and, 
finally,  the  leading  followers  of  Mrs.  Hutchinson  were  banished. 

In  1645,  some  persons  from  Hingham  complained  that  they 
were  not  permitted  to  worship  God  as  they  chose,  and  peti- 
tioned for  liberty  of  conscience;  or,  if  that  could  not  be 
granted,  they  asked  for  exemption  from  taxes  and  military  ser- 
vice. If  refused,  they  threatened  to  appeal  to  the,  English  par- 
liament. The  petitioners  were  cited  to  court  and  fined  as 
'^  movers  of  sedition."  Winthrop  joined  in  their  prosecution. 
A  party  favourable  to  them  required  him  to  answer  publicly  for 
his  conduct.  He  was  honourabl}^  acquitted.  On  resuming  his 
seat,  he  took  occasion  to  declare  publicly  his  sentiments  con- 
cerning the  authority  of  the  magistracy  and  the  liberty  of  the 
people.  '<■  You  hai,ye  called  us,"  was  his  language,  "to  office; 
but,  being  called,  we  have  our  authority  from  GOD  ;  it  is  the 
ordinance  of  God  and  hath  the  image  of  God  stamped  on  it, 
and  the  contempt  of  it  hath  been  vindicated  by  God  with  terri- 
ble examples  of  his  vengeance.  When  you  choose  magistrates, 
you  take  them  from  among  yourselves — men  subject  to  the  like 
passions  with  yourselves.  If  you  see  our  infirmities,  reflect  on 
your  own,  and  you  will  not  be  so  severe  on  ours.  The  cove- 
nant between  us  and  you  is,  that  we  shall  govern  you  and  judge 
your  causes,  according  to  the  laws  of  God  and  our  best  skill. 


JOHN  WINTHROP   OF   MASSACHUSETTS.  141 

A.s  for  our  skill,  jou  must  run  the  hazard  of  it ;  and,  if  there 
be  an  error,  not  in  the  will,  but  the  skill,  it  becomes  you  to  bear 
it.  Nor  would  I  have  you  mistake  in  the  point  of  your  liberty. 
There  is  a  liberty  of  corrupt  nature,  which  is  inconsistent  with 
authority,  impatient  of  restraint,  the  grand  enemy  of  truth  and 
peace,  and  all  the  ordinances  of  God  are  bent  against  it.  But 
there  is  a  civil,  moral,  federal  liberty,  which  is  the  proper  end 
and  object  of  authority — a  liberty  for  that  only  which  is  just 
and  good.  For  this  liberty  you  are  to  stand  with  your  lives ; 
and,  whatever  crosses  it,  is  not  liberty,  but  a  distemper  thereof. 
This  liberty  is  obtained  in  a  way  of  subjection  to  authority;  and 
the  authority  set  over  you  will,  in  all  administrations  for  your 
good,  be  quietly  submitted  to  by  all  but  such  as  have  a  dispo- 
sition to  shake  off  the  yoke,  and  lose  their  liberty  by  murmur- 
ing at  the  honour  and  power  of  authority."  In  these  we  de- 
tect the  principles  of  persecution  for  conscience'  sake ;  yet  it 
should  be  observed  that  Winthrop's  views  underwent  material 
alteration  before  his  death. 

In  domestic  affairs,  Winthrop  was  unfortunate.  After  de- 
voting the  greater  portion  of  his  substance  to  the  colony,  and 
suffering  heavy  losses,  he  was  obliged  to  sell  most  of  his  estate 
to  pay  an  accumulated  debt.  He  buried  three  wives  and  six 
children ;  and  his  varied  afflictions  so  preyed  upon  his  mind, 
that  his  faculties  began  to  decay  seven  years  before  his  death. 
He  expired  of  fever,  March  26,  1649.  He  left  five  sons,  one 
of  "^rhom  became  Governor  of  Connecticut. 


142 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


ROGER  WILLIAMS. 


HE  accounts  transmitted  to  us  of  Roger  Wil- 
liams are  meagre  and  unsatisfactory.  He  was 
born  in  "Wales,  of  respectable  parentage,  edu- 
cated at  Oxford,  and  admitted  to  orders  in  the 
cliurch  of  England.  Soon  after,  he  married, 
and  for  some  time  he  laboured  assiduously  as 
an  Episcopal  minister.  But  the  same  spirit 
which  was  afterwards  fruitful  in  subjecting  him 
to  difficulty,  induced  him  to  join  the  Puritans, 
and  becoming  obnoxious  to  the  laws  against  non- 
conformists, he  abandoned  his  country,  and  came 
with  his  wife  to  America.  He  reached  Boston 
February,  1631,  and  in  the  following  April  he  was 
invited  by  the  congregation  of  Salem  to  address 
them  occasionally,  under  the  inspection  of  their 
pastor,  Mr.  Skelton.  Here  he  remained  until  that 
minister's  death,  in  1634,  when  he  was  invited  to  fill  his  place. 
He  now  expressed  more  unreservedly  his  opinion  on  toleration 
and  other  points,  in  consequence  of  which  he  was  speedily 
brought  to  account.  The  colonial  government  had  never  re- 
garded him  in  a  very  favourable  light ;  and  his  public  assertion 
that  the  king's  patent  to  them  was  void,  because  he  had  no  right 
to  dispose  of  the  red  men's  soil,  was  not  calculated  to  make 
them  more  lenient  toward  him.  He  also  condemned  the  prac- 
tice of  permitting  "natural"  men  to  take  oaths,  to  pray,  &c. ; 
and  he  insisted  that  magistrates  had  no  right  to  deal  in  matters 
of  conscience  or  religion.  For  entertaining  such  opinions  he 
was  accused  of  heresy  and  apostasy ;  the  cliurch  of  Salem  was 
censured,  and  Williams  was  summoned  to  appear  before  the 
court.  He  was  charged  with  writing  two  letters, — one  to  the 
churches,  complaining  of  the  magistrates'  injustice  and  extreme 
oppression ;  the  other  to  his  own   church,  persuading  them  to 


ROGER   WILLIAMS.  14B 

renounce  communion  with  all  the  churches  in  the  Bay,  because 
they  were  filled  with  error,  pollution,  &c.  "Williams  acknow- 
ledged the  letters,  and  offered  to  defend  the  sentiments  expressed 
in  them,  by  a  public  dispute.  A  Mr.  Hooker  was  chosen  to 
confer  with  him ;  Williams  persisted  in  his  opinions  ;  the  court 
ordered  him  to  leave  its  jurisdiction  in  six  weeks.  It  being 
then  autumn,  (1635,)  he  was  permitted  to  remain  until  the  en- 
suing spring,  on  condition  of  not  inducing  others  to  join  in  his 
opinions.  His  popularity  with  the  people  caused  the  magis- 
trates to  sacrifice  mercy  to  justice ;  a  vessel  was  despatched,  in 
January,  to  apprehend  and  carry  him  to  England  ;  but  Williams 
had  previously  gone  to  Rehoboth.  In  the  spring  he  left  the 
Plymouth  colony,  and  went  to  Moonshausich,  which,  in  humble 
reliance  upon  God,  he  named  Providence.  Here  he  founded  a 
settlement,  which  has  expanded  into  an  independent  state.  By 
regarding  the  Indians  as  human  beings,  like  himself,  and  en- 
titled to  equal  rights  with  himself,  he  won  their  friendship ; 
and  his  little  colony  soon  became  an  asylum  for  the  stranger 
and  the  oppressed  of  other  lands.  No  greater  proof  of  his 
worth  can  be  given,  than  the  fact  that  that  strict,  uncompro- 
mising government  which  banished  him,  were  in  no  long  time 
led  to  look  upon  him  in  a  favourable  light,  and,  in  1637,  actually 
employed  him  as  their  agent  among  the  Indians.  His  inter- 
course with  Massachusetts  was  marked  with  disinterestedness, 
fidelity,  and  wisdom,  so  that  ever  after  Governor  Winthrop  was 
his  friend. 

About  this  time  the  religious  opinions  of  Williams  under- 
went considerable  change ;  he  acknowledged  the  truth  of  some 
of  the  Baptist  tenets,  and  in  March,  1639,  was  baptised  by 
immersion.  During  several  months  he  preached  to  a  society 
of  this  order,  but  finally  separated  from  them,  doubting,  it  is 
believed,  the  validity  of  all  baptism,  on  the  ground  of  a  want 
of  succession  from  the  apostles.  As  these  changes  of  opinion 
exposed  him  to  much  loss  and  danger,  we  must  ascribe  them 
only  to  sincere  convictions  of  truth. 

In  1643,  Williams  appeared  in  England  to  solicit  a  charter 
of  incorporation  for  the  colonies  of  Providence,  Rhode  Island, 
and  Warwick.  Succeeding,  he  returned  next  year.  Eight 
years  after,  a  difficulty  arising  on  account  of  the  claims  of 
Coddington,  Williams,  in  company  with  Clark,  was  again  sent  to 


144  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

England,  whore,  in  1652,  he  obtained  a  revocation  of  Codding- 
ton's  authority  over  Narragansett  Bay.  After  this  he  was 
several  times  elected  governor  of  the  colony,  and  in  1663  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  it  obtain  a  new  and  more  ample 
charter.  He  died  April,  1683,  at  the  advanced  age  of  eighty- 
five  years. 

The  materials  for  a  biography  of  Roger  Williams,  though 
scanty,  suffice  to  show  that  he  was  a  man  of  unblemished  cha- 
racter, ardent  piety,  an  humble  seeker  after  truth,  and,  in  his 
opinions  of  right  and  duty,  unyielding  either  through  threats 
or  flattery.  He  was  among  the  first  pioneers  of  religious  free- 
dom in  America.  Though  so  grossly  injured  by  the  govern- 
ment of  Massachusetts,  he  never  resented  the  injury,  and  on 
one  occasion  gave  his  persecutors  information  of  the  Indian 
plot  which  would  have  destroyed  their  settlement.  He  was  an 
author  as  well  as  a  preacher.  His  Key  to  the  Indian  Languages 
of  New  England,  printed  in  1643,  evinces  considerable  know- 
ledge and  research.  The  "  Dialogue  between  Truth  and  Peace" 
was  printed  in  1644.  In  this  he  discloses  those  sentiments  of 
toleration  and  religious  freedom  which  Milton  and  Locke  after- 
wards delighted  to  dwell  upon,  and  which  were  already  advocated 
by  the  dissenters  of  New  England.  He  was  answered  by  Mr. 
Cotton  of  Massachusetts,  who  with  great  zeal,  and  no  little 
bigotry,  defended  the  right  and  enforced  the  duty  of  the  civil 
magistrate  to  regulate  church  obligations.  Williams  replied  in 
a  treatise  replete  with  powerful  arguments.  In  August,  1672, 
he  held  a  public  dispute  with  them  at  Newport  and  at  Provi- 
dence, and  subsequently  published  an  answer  to  a  work  by  Fox. 
Many  tracts  are  ascribed  to  him ;  and  his  numerous  letters  to 
acquaintances  and  public  men  are  said  to  have  been  curious 
and  valuable. 


JOHN   WINTHROP   OF   CONNECTICUT. 


145 


JOHN    WINTHROP, 

GOVERNOR   OF   CONNECTICUT. 


INTHROP,  eldest  son  of  Grovernor  Winthrop 
of  Massachusetts,  was  born  in  Groton,  in  Suf- 
folk, Feb.  12,  1605.  His  fine  genius  was 
much  improved  by  a  liberal  education,  in  the 
universities  of  Cambridge  and  Dublin,  and 
by  travelling  through  most  of  the  European 
kingdoms,  as  far  as  Turkey.  He  came  to 
New  England  with  his  father's  family,  Nov.  4, 
1631;  and  though  not  above  twenty-six  years 
of  age,  was,  by  the  unanimous  choice  of  the  free- 
men, appointed  a  magistrate  of  the  colony,  of 
which  his  father  was  governor.  He  rendered  many 
services  to  the  country,  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
particularly,  in  the  year  1634,  when,  returning  to  Eng- 
land, he  was,  by  stress  of  weather,  forced  into  Ireland ; 
where,  meeting  with  many  influential  persons,  at  the 
house  of  Sir  John  Closworthy,  he  had  an  opportunity  to  pro- 
mote the  interest  of  the  colony  by  their  means. 

The  next  year  he  came  back  to  New  England,  with  powers 
from  the  Lords  Say  and  Brooke,  to  settle  a  plantation  on  Con- 
necticut river.  But  finding  that  some  worthy  persons  from  the 
Massachusetts  had  already  removed,  and  others  w^ere  about 
removing  to  make  a  settlement  on  that  river  at  Hartford  and 
Weathersfield,  he  gave  them  no  disturbance;  but  having  made 
an  amicable  agreement  with  them,  built  a  fort  at  the  mouth  of 
the  river,  and  furnished  it  with  the  artillery  and  stores  w^hich 
had  been  sent  over,  and  began  a  town  there,  which,  from  the 
two  lords  who  had  a  principal  share  in  the  undertaking,  was 
called  Saybrook.  This  fort  kept  the  Indians  in  awe,  and  proved 
a  security  to  the  planters  on  the  river. 


146  LIVES    OF   ErillNENT    CHRISTIANS. 

When  thej  had  formed  themselves  into  a  body  politic,  they 
Honoured  him  with  an  election  to  the  magistracy,  and  afterward 
chose  him  governor  of  the  colony.  At  the  restoration  of  King 
Charles  11.  he  undertook  a  voyage  to  England,  on  behalf  of  the 
people,  both  of  Connecticut  and  New  Haven ;  and,  by  his  pru- 
dent address,  obtained  from  the  king  a  charter,  incorporating 
both  colonies  into  one,  with  a  grant  of  privileges,  and  powers 
of  government,  superior  to  any  plantation  which  had  then  been 
settled  in  America.  During  this  negotiation,  at  a  private  con- 
ference with  the  king,  he  presented  his  majesty  with  a  ring, 
which  King  Charles  I.  had  given  to  his  grandfather.  This 
present  rendered  him  very  acceptable  to  the  king,  and  greatly 
facilitated  the  business.  The  people,  at  his  return,  expressed 
their  gratitude  to  him  by  electing  him  to  the  office  of  governor, 
for  fourteen  years  successively,  till  his  death. 

Mr.  Winthrop's  genius  led  him  to  philosophical  inquiries, 
and  his  opjiortunities  for  conversing  with  learned  men  abroad, 
furnished  him  with  a  rich  variety  of  knowledge,  particularly  of 
the  mineral  kingdom;  and  there  are  some  valuable  communi- 
cations of  his  in  the  philosophical  transactions,  which  procured 
him  the  honour  of  being  elected  a  fellow  of  the  Royal  Society. 
He  had  also  much  skill  in  the  art  of  physic  ;  and  generously  dis- 
tributed many  valuable  medicines  among  the  people,  who  con- 
stantly applied  to  him  whenever  they  had  need,  and  were  treated 
with  a  kindness  that  did  honour  to  their  benefactor. 

His  many  valuable  qualities  as  a  gentleman,  a  Christian,  a 
philosopher,  and  a  public  ruler,  procured  him  the  universal 
respect  of  the  people  under  his  government;  and  his  unwearied 
attention  to  the  public  business,  and  great  understanding  in  the 
art  of  government,  was  of  unspeakable  advantage  to  them. 
Being  one  of  the  commissioners  of  the  United  Colonies  of  New 
England,  in  the  year  1676,  in  the  height  of  the  first  general 
Indian  war,  as  he  was  attending  the  service  at  Boston,  he  fell 
Bick  of  a  fever,  and  died  on  the  5th  of  April,  in  the  seventy-first 
year  of  his  age,  and  was  honourably  buried  in  the  same  tomb 
with  his  excellent  father.* 


♦  Mather's  Magnalia. 


CATHERINE  OF  ARRAGON. 


147 


CATHERINE  OF  ARRAGON. 


EMARKABLE  no  less  for  her  virtues  than 
her  misfortunes,  this  celebrated  woman  was 
born  in  Spain,  in  1483.  Her  parents  were 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella.  In  early  life  she  was 
instructed  in  those  principles  of  piety  for  Avhich 
her  mother  was  remarkable ;  and  throughout 
life  she,  on  every  occasion,  displayed  sincere 
humility  and  devotion.  When  eighteen,  she 
was  united  in  marriage  to  Arthur,  Prince  of 
Wales,  son  of  Henry  VII.,  of  England;  but  on 
the  prince's  death,  five  months  afterward,  the  Eng 
lish  king,  unwilling  to  return  her  dowry,  contracted 
her  to  his  remaining  son,  Henry.  Marriage  with  a 
';^  sister-in-law  being  opposed  to  the  doctrines  of  the 
church,  a  special  dispensation,  was  in  this  case  ob 
tained  from  the  pope.  The  contract  was  not  pleasing  to 
Prince  Henry.  At  the  age  of  fifteen,  he  publicly  protested 
against  it,  and  was  induced  to  ratify  it  only  by  the  solicitations 
of  the  council,  and  the  authority  of  his  father.  On  his  acces- 
sion, in  1509,  he  solemnly  renewed  his  former  consent,  and 
crowned  Catherine  Queen  of  England. 

From  the  first,  the  queen  appears  to  have  been  popular 
But  to  the  prospect  of  a  happy  union  with  Henry  there  were 
two  fatal  objections.  A  young  monarch  notorious  for  his  ad- 
miration of  youthful  bloom,  was  not  like  to  regard  with  favour- 
able eyes,  for  any  great  length  of  time,  a  recent  widow,  consi- 
derably older  than  himself;  but  even  had  this  obstacle  not 
existed,  Henry's  temper  was  inimical  to  continued  friendship. 
But,  contrary  to  expectation,  Catherine  obtained  a  complete 
ascendancy  over  his  affection,  and  maintained  it  without  import- 
ant interruptions  during  nearly  twenty  years.  This  we  can 
ascribe  only  to  the  amiable  docility  of  her  disposition,  her  fer- 
vid piety,  which  won  the  esteem  even  of  enemies,  and  her  well- 
cultivated  intellect. 


148  LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

The  constaD.cj  of  Henry  was  overcome  by  an  introduction  to 
Anne  Boleyn ;  his  old  scruples  concerning  the  legality  of  his 
marriage  revived ;  and  an  application  for  divorce  was  laid  before 
the  pope.  His  holiness  returned  an  encouraging  answer ;  and 
Henry  prepared  to  cast  away  one,  who  of  all  others  had  been 
to  him  most  faithful  and  affectionate.  But  Charles  V.,  Empe- 
ror of  Germany,  and  nephew  to  Catherine,  interfered,  and  pre- 
vented the  dispensation  of  the  pope.  The  violent  dispute  and 
important  consequences  which  resulted  from  the  shuffling  of  the 
pontiff  and  the  obstinacy  of  Henry,  are  known  to  every  reader 
of  English  history.  During  the  whole  affair,  Catherine  con- 
ducted herself  with  gentleness ;  but  neither  entreaties  nor 
threats  could  induce  her  to  consent  to  a  divorce,  and  thereby 
not  only  render  her  daughter  illegitimate,  but  virtually  acknow- 
ledge that  she  had  herself  been  guilty  of  incest.  When  cited, 
in  1529,  before  the  papal  legates,  Cardinals  Campeggio  an  I 
"Wolsey,  she  refused  to  abide  by  their  decision,  and  appealed  to 
the  court  of  Rome.  The  appeal  was  declared  contumacious. 
Henry's  temper,  never  remarkable  for  moderation,  gave  way 
long  before  the  dispute  would  naturally  have  terminated ;  he 
summarily  cut  the  cord  which  he  could  not  untie ;  and  Cathe- 
rine's legal  disgrace  was  completed  by  the  accession  of  her 
maid  of  honour,  Anne  Boleyn,  to  her  honours  and  her  throne. 
With  Henry's  subsequent  high-handed  measures — the  quarrel 
with  the  pope,  the  rupture  with  the  church,  the  establishment 
of  the  religious  protectorship  in  the  person  of  the  sovereign — 
Catherine  had  nothing  to  do.  In  1532,  she  retired  to  Ampthill, 
in  Bedfordshire,  where  she  persisted  in  asserting  her  claims  as 
Queen  of  England,  nor  was  she  intimidated  by  the  act  of  Cran- 
mer,  who  on  his  accession  to  the  primacy,  publicly  pronounced 
the  sentence  of  divorce.  But  disease — the  result  of  an  inno- 
cent spirit  abused  and  crushed — soon  began  to  complete  what 
Henry  had  commenced.  Feeling  her  death  approaching,  she 
wrote  a  letter  to  the  king,  which  is  said  to  have  drawn  tears 
from  his  eyes.  It  recommended  to  his  protection  their  daughter 
(afterwards  queen)  Mary,  prayed  for  the  salvation  of  his  soul, 
and  assured  him  that  her  affection  toward  him  was  still  unabated. 
*Sbe  died  in  1536. 


KING   EDWARD   THE   SIXTH. 


149 


KING  EDWARD  THE  SIXTH. 


ON  of  Henry  the  Eighth  by  Jane  Seymour, 
was  born  at  Hampton  Court  on  the  12th  of 
October,  1587,  and  died  at  Greenwich  on  the 
6th  of  July,  1553. 

The  annals  of  this  prince  present  little  more 
to  our  view  than  the  strange  events  which  at- 
tended the  struggle  between  Seymour  and  Dud- 
ley for  the  possession  of  his  person  and  autho- 
rity. The  bloody  war  with  Scotland,  and  the 
dangerous  insurrections  which  succeeded  at  home, 
occupied  the  ardent  minds  and  employed  the  ta- 
ents  of  those  chiefs  during  the  first  two  years  of 
his  reign ;  but  the  return  of  national  peace  gave 
birth  to  the  bitterest  discord  between  them  ;  and  theii 
wisdom  and  bravery,  which  in  the  late  public  exigen 
cies  had  shone  resplendently  in  the  council  and  in  the 
field,  presently  sank  into  the  contracted  cunning  and  petty  ma- 
lice of  factious  politicians.  The  protector  sought  to  intrench 
himself  in  the  stronghold  of  popular  favour,  and  was  perhaps 
the  first  English  nolBleman  who  endeavoured  to  derive  power  or 
security  from  that  source :  his  antagonist,  too  proud  and  too 
artful  to  engage  in  an  untried  scheme,  humiliating  in  its  pro- 
gress and  uncertain  in  its  event,  threw  himself  into  the  arms 
of  a  body  of  discontented  nobles,  lamenting  the  fallen  dignity 
of  the  crown,  and  the  tarnished  honour  of  their  order.  He 
proved  successful :  the  protector  was  accused  of  high  treason, 
and  suffered  on  the  scaffold,  and  the  young  king  was  transferred 
to  Dudley,  together  with  the  regal  power. 

These  circumstances,  well  known  as  they  are,  will  be  found 
to  throw  a  new  lustre  on  Edward's  character.  In  this  con- 
vulsed time,  so  adverse  to  every  sort  of  improvement  either  in 
the  morals  or  less  important  accomplishments  of  the  youthful 
prince ;  under  the  disadvantages  of  an  irregular  education,  a 


150  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

slighted  authority,  and  a  sickly  constitution  ;  he  made  himself 
master  of  the  most  eminent  qualifications.  With  an  almost 
critical  knoAvledge  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  language,  he  under- 
stood and  conversed  in  French,  Spanish,  and  Italian.  He  waa 
well  read  in  natural  philosophy,  astronomy,  and  logic.  He 
imitated  his  father  in  searching  into  the  conduct  of  public  men 
in  every  part  of  his  dominions,  and  kept  a  register  in  which 
he  Avrote  the  characters  of  such  persons,  even  to  the  rank  of 
justices  of  the  peace.  He  was  well  informed  of  the  value  and 
exchange  of  money.  He  is  said  to  have  been  master  of  the 
theory  of  military  arts,  especially  fortification  ;  and  was  ac- 
quainted with  all  the  ports  in  England,  France,  and  Scotland, 
their  depth  of  water,  and  their  channels.  His  journal,  record- 
ing the  most  material  transactions  of  his  reign  from  its  very 
commencement,  the  original  of  which,  written  by  his  own  hand, 
remains  in  the  Cotton  Library,  proves  a  thirst  for  the  know- 
ledge not  only  of  political  affairs  at  home  and  of  foreign  rela- 
tions, but  of  the  laws  of  his  realm,  even  to  municipal  and  do- 
mestic regulations  comparatively  insignificant,  which,  at  his 
age,  was  truly  surprising.  "This  child,"  says  the  famous 
Cardan,  who  frequently  conversed  with  him,  "  was  so  bred,  had 
such  parts,  was  of  such  expectation,  that  he  looked  like  a  mi- 
racle of  a  man ;  and  in  him  was  such  an  attempt  of  Nature, 
that  not  only  England  but  the  world  had  reason  to  lament  his 
being  so  early  snatched  away." 

With  these  great  endowments,  which  too  frequently  produce 
haughty  and  ungracious  manners,  we  find  Edward  mild,  patient, 
beneficent,  sincere,  and  affable  ;  free  from  all  the  faults,  and 
uniting  all  the  perfections,  of  the  sovereigns  of  his  family  who 
preceded  or  followed  him  :  courageous  and  steady,  but  humane 
and  just ;  bountiful,  without  profusion  ;  pious,  without  bigotry ; 
graced  with  a  dignified  simplicity  of  conduct  in  common  affairs, 
which  suited  his  rank  as  well  as  his  years ;  and  artlessly  obey- 
ing the  impulses  of  his  perfect  mind,  in  assuming,  as  occasions 
required,  the  majesty  of  the  monarch,  the  gravity  of  the  states- 
man, and  the  familiarity  of  the  gentleman. 

Such  is  the  account  invariably  given  of  Edward  the  Sixth  ; 
derived  from  no  blind  respect  for  the  memory  of  his  fiither, 
whose  death  relieved  his  people  from  the  scourge  of  tyranny; 
without  hope  of  reward  from  himself,  whose  person  never  pro- 


KING  EDWARD  THE  SIXTH.  15J 

toised  manhood  ;  with  no  view  of  paying  court  to  his  successor, 
who  abhorred  him  as  a  heretic,  or  to  Elizabeth,  whose  title  to 
the  throne  he  had  been  in  his  dying  moments  persuaded  to 
deny;  but  dictated  solely  by  a  just  admiration  of  the  charming 
qualities  which  so  wonderfully  distinguished  him,  and  perfectly 
free  from  those  motives  to  a  base  partiality,  which  too  often 
guide  the  biographer's  pen  when  he  treats  of  the  characters  of 
princes.  Concerning  his  person,  Sir  John  Hayward  informs 
us  that  «<  he  was  in  body  beautiful ;  of  a  sweet  aspect,  and 
especially  in  his  eyes,  which  seemed  to  have  a  starry  liveliness 
and  lustre  in  them/' 


152 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


THE  LADY  JANE  GREY. 


OR  it  is  perhaps  more  prudent  to  adopt  the 
inveterate  absurdity,  ahnost  invariably  used  in 
this  instance,  of  designating  a  married  woman 
by  her  maiden  surname,  than  to  incur  the 
charge  of  obscurity  or  aiFectation  by  giving  her 
that  of  her  husband.  It  is  most  difficult  to 
guess  in  what  motive  this  singular  folly  could 
have  originated,  more  especially  as  her  epheme- 
ral greatness,  and  its  tragical  termination,  the 
only  important  circumstances  of  her  public  his- 
tory, arose  out  of  the  fact  of  her  union  with  him. 
It  is  needless,  however,  and  perhaps  nearly  useless, 
to  attempt  to  solve  that  difficulty,  and  on  this  ques- 
tion between  common  sense  and  propriety  on  the  one 
hand,  and  obstinate  habit  on  the  other,  we  are  content 
to  take  the  wrong  side. 
This  prodigy  of  natural  and  acquired  talents,  of  innocence 
and  sweetness  of  temper  and  manners,  and  of  frightful  and 
unmerited  calamity,  was  born  in  1537,  the  eldest  of  the  three 
daughters  of  Henry  Grey,  Marquis  of  Dorset,  by  the  Lady 
Frances,  daughter  of  Charles  Brandon,  Duke  of  Suffolk,  and 
of  his  illustrious  consort,  Mary,  Queen  Dowager  of  France, 
and  youngest  sister  of  Henry  the  Eighth.  The  story  of  her 
almost  infancy,  were  it  not  authenticated  by  several  whose 
veracity  was  as  unquestionable  as  their  judgment,  would  be 
wholly  incredible.  Her  education,  after  the  fashion  of  the  time, 
which  extended  the  benefits  and  the  delights  of  erudition  to  her 
sex,  was  of  that  character,  and  was  conducted  by  John  Aylmer, 
a  Protestant  clergyman,  whom  her  father  entertained  as  his 
domestic  chaplain,  and  who  was  afterwards  raised  by  Elizabeth 
to  the  see  of  London.  For  this  gentleman  she  cherished  a 
solid  esteem  and  respect,  mixed  with  a  childish  affection  which 
doubtless  tended  to  forward  the  success  of  her  studies.     Those 


LADY  JANE   GREY.  153 

Bentiments  arose  in  some  measure  out  of  domestic  circum- 
stances. That  elegant  and  profound  scholar,  and  frequent 
tutor  of  royalty,  Roger  Ascham,  informs  us  in  his  "  School- 
master," that,  making  a  visit  of  ceremony  on  his  going  abroad 
to  her  parents  at  their  mansion  of  Broadgate  in  Leicestershire, 
he  found  her  in  her  own  apartment,  reading  the  Phsedon  of 
Plato  in  the  original,  while  her  father  and  mother,  with  all  their 
household,  were  hunting  in  the  park.  Ascham  expressing  his 
surprise  that  she  should  be  absent  from  the  party,  she  answered, 
to  use  his  own  words,  "  All  their  sport  in  the  park  I  wisse  is 
but  a  shadow  to  that  pleasure  that  I  find  in  Plato — alas,  good 
folk,  they  never  knew  what  true  pleasure  meant."  "  And 
how,"  rejoined  Ascham,  '^  came  you,  madam,  to  this  deep  know- 
ledge of  pleasure ;  and  what  did  chiefly  allure  you  to  it,  seeing 
not  many  women,  but  very  few  men,  have  attained  thereto  ?" 
To  this  she  replied,  with  a  sweet  simplicity,  that  God  had 
blessed  her  by  giving  her  sharp  and  severe  parents,  and  a 
gentle  schoolmaster;  "for,"  added  she,  <' when  I  am  in  the 
presence  either  of  father  or  mother,  whether  I  speak,  keep 
silence,  sit,  stand,  or  go,  eat,  drink,  be  merry  or  sad,  be  sewing, 
dancing,  or  doing  any  thing  else,  I  must  do  it,  as  it  were,  in 
such  weight,  measure,  and  number,  even  so  perfectly  as  Grod 
made  the  world,  or  else  I  am  sharply  taunted,  and  cruelly 
threatened,  till  the  time  come  that  I  must  go  to  Mr.  Aylmer, 
who  teacheth  me  so  gently,  so  pleasantly,  with  such  fair  allure- 
ments to  learning,  that  I  think  all  the  time  nothing  whilst  I 
am  with  him ;  and  thus  my  book  hath  been  so  much  my  plea- 
sure, and  bringeth  daily  to  me  more  pleasure  and  more,  that  in 
respect  of  it  all  other  pleasures  in  very  deed  be  but  trifles  and 
very  troubles  unto  me." 

Whether  Ascham's  first  knowledge  of  her  extraordinary  at- 
tainments occurred  at  this  period  is  unknown,  but  he  certainly 
gave  soon  after  the  strongest  proofs  of  the  respect  in  which  he 
held  them.  A  long  letter  remains,  perhaps  one  of  many  which 
he  addressed  to  her,  in  which  he  declares  his  high  opinion  of 
her  understanding  as  well  as  of  her  learning,  and  requests  of 
her  not  only  to  answer  him  in  Greek,  but  to  write  a  letter  in 
the  same  language  to  his  friend  John  Sturmius,  a  scholar  whose 
elegant  latinity  had  procured  him  the  title  of  "  the  Cicero  of 
Germany,"  that  he  might  have  an  indiff*erent  witness  to  the 
20 


154  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

truth  of  the  report  which  he  would  make  in  that  country  of  her 
qualifications.  He  speaks  of  her  elsewhere  with  an  actual  en- 
thusiasm. "Aristotle's  praise  of  women,"  says  he,  "is  per- 
fected in  her.  She  possesses  good  manners,  prudence,  and  a 
love  of  labour.  She  possesses  every  talent,  without  the  least 
weakness,  of  her  sex.  She  speaks  French  and  Italian  as  well 
as  she  does  English.  She  writes  elegantly,  and  with  propriety. 
She  has  more  than  once  spoken  Greek  to  me,  and  writes  in 
Latin  with  great  strength  of  sentiment."  Sir  Thomas  Chalo- 
ner,  also  her  contemporary,  not  only  corrolborates  Ascham's 
particulars  of  her  erudite  accomplishments,  but  adds  that  "she 
was  well  versed  in  Hebrew,  Chaldee,  and  Arabic  ;  that  she  ex- 
celled also  in  the  various  branches  of  ordinary  feminine  educa- 
tion ;  played  well  on  instrumental  music,  sung  exquisitely,  wrote 
an  elegant  hand,  and  excelled  in  curious  needle-work,  and,  with 
all  these  rare  endowments,  was  of  a  mild,  humble,  and  modest 
spirit."  Fuller,  who  lived  a  century  after  her,  condensing, 
with  the  quaint  eloquence  which  distinguished  him,  the  fruit  of 
all  authorities  regarding  her  with  which  he  was  acquainted,  says 
that  "  she  had  the  innocency  of  childhood,  the  beauty  of  youth,, 
the  solidity  of  middle,  the  gravity  of  old  age,  and  all  at  eigh- 
teen;  the  birth  of  a  princess,  the  learning  of  a  clerk,  the  life 
of  a  saint,  and  the  death  of  a  malefactor  for  her  parents* 
offences." 

Her  progress  from  this  beautiful  state  of  innocence  and  re- 
finement to  that  dismal  end  was  but  as  a  single  step,  and  the 
events  relative  to  her  which  filled  the  short  interval  were  matters 
rather  of  public  than  of  personal  history.  By  a  marvellous 
fatality  this  admirable  young  creature  was  doomed  to  become 
the  nominal  head  and  actual  slave  of  faction,  and  a  victim  to 
the  most  guilty  ambition.  The  circumstances  of  the  great  con- 
test for  rule  between  the  Protector  Somerset  and  Dudley  which, 
distinguished  the  short  reign  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  are  familiar 
to  the  readers  of  English  history.  The  latter,  having  effected 
the  ruin  of  his  antagonist,  employed  his  first  moments  of  lei- 
sure in  devising  the  means  of  maintaining  the  vast  but  uncer- 
tain power  which  he  had  so  acquired.  Among  these  the  most 
obvious,  and  perhaps  the  most  hopeful,  was  the  establishment 
of  marriage  contracts  between  his  own  numerous  issue  and  the 
children  of  the  most  potent  of  the  nobility,  and  thus,  early  in 


LADY   JANE   GREY.  155 

the  year  1553,  the  Lady  Jane  Grey,  for  whose  father  he  had 
lately  procured  the  dukedom  of  Suffolk,  became  the  consort  of 
his  youngest  son,  Gruildford  Dudley.  He  was  secretly  prompted 
however  to  form  this  union  by  the  conception  of  peculiar  views, 
not  less  extravagant  than  splendid.  Edward,  the  natural  deli- 
cacy of  whose  frame  never  promised  a  long  life,  had  shown 
some  symptoms  of  pulmonary  disease,  and  the  confusion  and 
uncertainty  which  the  brutal  selfishness  of  his  father  Henry 
had  entailed  on  the  succession  to  the  crown  suggested  to  the 
ardent  and  unprincipled  Northumberland  the  possibility  of  di- 
verting  it  into  his  own  f^imily  under  such  pretensions  as  might 
be  founded  on  the  descent  of  his  daughter-in-law. 

The  absurdity  of  this  reverie,  legally  or  indeed  rationally 
considered,  was  self-evident.  Not  to  mention  the  existence  of 
the  Princesses  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  who  might  indeed  plausibly 
enough  be  said  to  stand  under  some  circumstances  of  disinheri- 
son, Jane  descended  from  a  younger  sister  of  Henry,  and  there 
was  issue  in  being  from  the  elder ;  nay,  her  own  mother,  through 
whom  alone  she  could  claim,  was  living ;  and  the  marriage  both 
of  her  mother  and  her  grandmother  had  been  very  fairly  charged 
with  illegality.  Opposed  to  these  disadvantages  were  the  enor- 
mous power  of  the  party  which  surrounded  Northumberland ; 
his  own  complete  influence  over  the  mind  of  the  young  king; 
and  the  affection  which  an  agreement  of  age,  talents,  tempers, 
and  studies,  had  produced  in  Edward  towards  his  fair  kinswo- 
man, and  which  the  duke  and  his  creatures  used  all  practicable 
artifices  to  increase.  The  nuptials  were  celebrated  with  great 
splendour  in  the  royal  palace,  and  the  king's  health  presently 
after  rapidly  declined,  insomuch  that  Northumberland  saw  no 
time  w^as  to  be  lost  in  proceeding  to  the  consummation  of  his 
mighty  project.  Historians,  with  a  license  too  commonly  used 
by  them,  affect  to  recite  with  much  gravity  the  very  arguments 
used  by  him  to  persuade  Edward  to  nominate  Jane  his  successor, 
of  which  it  is  utterly  impossible  that  they  should  have  been  in- 
formed. All  that  can  be  truly  said  is  that  he  gained  his  point 
to  the  utmost  of  his  hopes  and  wishes. 

The  king  was  induced,  apparently  with  little  difficulty,  to 
agree  to  certain  articles,  previously  sanctioned  by  the  privy 
council,  declaring  her  next  heir  to  the  crown,  and,  for  some 
reason  long  since  forgotten,  but  probably  because  it  was  ex- 


156  LIVES   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

pected  that  he  would  be  the  most  pliable,  Sir  Edward  Montague, 
chief  justice  of  the  common  pleas,  was  selected  from  the  judges, 
to  digest  and  methodize  them,  with  the  aid  of  the  attorney  and 
solicitor-general,  into  the  strictest  form  that  they  could  devise. 
Montague,  however,  whose  own  account  of  his  share  in  the 
transaction  is  extant,  demurred.  Having  at  first  vainly  endea- 
voured to  withdraw  himself  entirely  from  the  task,  he  sought  to 
gain  time,  perhaps  in  expectation  of  the  king's  death,  by  be- 
seeching to  be  allowed  to  consult  the  statutes,  and  all  other  au- 
thorities which  might  have  any  relation  to  so  high  a  subject. 
Urged  at  length,  with  a  vehemence  no  longer  to  be  resisted,  to 
proceed,  he  reported  to  the  council  that  the  proposed  measure 
was  not  only  contrary  to  law,  but  would,  if  he  were  to  obey  their 
command,  subject  themselves,  as  well  as  him,  to  the  penalties 
of  high  treason.  Northumberland  at  that  moment  entered  the 
council-chamber  in  the  utmost  extravagance  of  fury ;  called 
Montague  a  traitor ;  swore  that  he  would  ''  fight  any  man  in 
his  shirt"  who  might  gainsay  the  king's  inclination ;  and  was 
actually  about  to  strike  the  chief  justice,  and  Bromley,  the  at- 
torney-general. They  retired,  and  when  they  were  next  sum- 
moned, the  king,  being  present,  reproved  them  sharply  for  de- 
laying the  duty  required  of  them.  At  length,  overawed,  they 
consented,  on  condition  of  receiving  an  authority  under  the 
great  seal,  and  a  general  pardon;  and  the  instrument  being 
prepared,  the  rest  of  the  judges  were  required  to  attend,  and 
to  sign  it,  which  was  accordingly  done  by  all,  except  one,  Sir 
James  Hales,  a  justice  of  the  common  pleas,  and  a  man  other- 
wise unknown,  who,  to  his  endless  honour,  steadfastly  refused  to 
the  last.  The  primate,  Cranmer,  with  that  unfortunate  irreso- 
lution which  formed  the  only  distortion  in  the  symmetry  of  his 
beautiful  character,  approved  of  Jane's  succession,  but  objected 
to  the  mode  of  accomplishing  it ;  contended,  perhaps  with 
more  vigour  than  might  have  been  expected  of  him,  but  in  the 
end  submitted,  and  signed,  with  the  rest  of  the  council,  not 
only  the  document  which  had  been  prepared  by  the  lawyers, 
but  also  a  second,  by  which  they  bound  themselves  in  the 
strictest  engagement  on  oath  to  support  her  title,  and  to  prose 
cute  with  the  utmost  severity  any  one  among  them  who  might 
in  any  degree  swerve  from  that  obligation. 

The  letters  patent,  confirming  to  Jane  the  succession  to  the 


LADY   JANE    GREY.  157 

throne,  were  signed  bj  Edward  on  the  twenty-first  of  June, 
1553,  and  on  the  sixth  of  the  next  month  he  expired.  Of  these 
events,  and  even  of  the  mere  scheme  for  her  fatal  elevation, 
she  is  said  to  have  been  kept  in  perfect  ignorance.  The  king's 
death  indeed  was  sedulously  concealed  from  all  for  a  few  days, 
which  Northumberland  employed  in  endeavouring  to  secure  the 
support  of  the  city,  and  to  get  into  his  hands  the  Princess 
Mary,  who  was  on  her  way  to  London  when  it  occurred.  She 
was  however  warned  of  her  danger,  and  retreated  ;  asserted 
without  delay  her  title  to  the  crown  in  a  letter  to  the  privy 
council ;  and  received  an  answer  full  of  disdain,  and  professions 
of  firm  allegiance  to  her  unconscious  competitrix.  While  these 
matters  were  passing,  Northumberland,  and  the  duke  her  father, 
repaired  to  Jane,  and  having  read  to  her  the  instrument  which 
invested  her  with  sovereignty,  fell  on  their  knees,  and  offered 
her  their  homao-e.  Havino;  someAvhat  recovered  from  the  asto- 
nishment  at  first  excited  by  the  news,  she  intreated  with  the  ut- 
most earnestness  and  sincerity  that  she  might  not  be  made  the 
instrument  of  such  injustice  to  the  right  heirs,  and  insult  to 
the  kingdom,  and  that  they  would  spare  her,  her  husband,  and 
themselves,  from  the  terrible  dangers  in  which  it  could  not  but 
involve  them.  Her  arguments  however  were  unavailing,  and 
no  means  were  left  to  her  but  a  positive  refusal,  in  which  per- 
haps the  strength  of  mind  which  she  certainly  possessed  might 
have  enabled  her  to  persist,  when  the  duchess,  her  mother,  and 
the  young  and  inexperienced  Guildford,  were  called  in,  and  to 
their  solicitations  she  yielded.  She  was  now  escorted  in  regal 
state  to  the  Tower,  on  her  entry  into  which  it  is  remarkable 
that  her  train  was  borne  by  her  mother,  and  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  same  day,  the  tenth  of  July,  was  proclaimed  in  London 
with  the  usual  solemnities. 

In  the  mean  tiine,  Mary,  who  had  retired  to  Kenninghall,  in 
Norfolk,  assumed  the  title  of  queen,  and  found  her  cause 
warmly  espoused  by  many  of  the  nobility,  and  nearly  the  whole 
of  the  yeomanry  and  inferior  population  of  that  and  the  adja- 
cent counties.  Those  who  ruled  in  the  metropolis,  and  who, 
having  fondly  considered  her  as  a  fugitive,  had  stationed  some 
ships  on  those  coasts  to  intercept  her  on  her  expected  flight  to 
Flanders,  were  now  suddenly  compelled  to  raise  a  military  force 
to  oppose  to  the  hourly  increasing  multitude  of  her  supporters. 

0 


158  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

Eight  thousand  horse  and  foot  were  collected  with  surprising 
expedition,  the  command  of  which  was  assumed  by  Northum- 
berland, and  it  was  agreed  that  Suffolk  should  remain  in  London 
to  conduct  the  government,  an  unlucky  transposition  arising 
from  Jane's  anxiety  for  the  personal  safety  of  her  father,  whose 
best  experience  was  in  martial  affairs,  while  Dudley,  with  all 
the  arts  of  a  statesman,  possessed  few  of  those  qualities  which 
win  the  hearts  of  soldiers,  or  bespeak  success  in  the  field.  At 
the  head  however  of  this  force  he  marched  from  London  on  the 
fourteenth  of  July,  having  taken  leave  of  the  council  in  a  short 
address  from  which  his  doubts  of  their  fidelity  may  be  clearly 
inferred.  They  were  in  fact  at  that  moment  agreed  to  betray 
the  extravagant  and  unjust  cause  which  they  had  so  lately  sworn 
to  support.  Even  on  the  following  day  their  intrigues  became 
so  evident  that  Suffolk,  in  the  barrenness  of  political  invention, 
commanded  in  the  name  of  the  queen  that  the  gates  of  the 
Tower  should  be  kept  constantly  closed,  to  prevent  the  mischief 
which  he  apprehended  from  their  communication  with  the  ad- 
verse party.  The  lord  treasurer  with  great  diflSculty  procured 
egress  for  a  few  hours,  and  returned  with  the  news  that  the 
naval  squadron,  Avhich  had  been  equipped  with  the  view  of  seiz- 
ing the  person  of  Mary,  had  revolted  to  her,  and  letters  were 
received  from  Northumberland  pressing  for  reinforcements,  and 
reporting  the  gradual  defection  of  his  troops  on  their  march. 
The  council  now  affected  the  warmest  zeal,  and  eagerly  repre- 
sented the  impossibility  of  raising  such  succours  otherwise  than 
by  their  personal  appearance  among  their  tenants  and  depend- 
ants, most  of  them  offering  to  lead  to  the  field  such  forces  as 
they  might  respectively  raise.  Suffolk,  deceived  by  these  pro- 
fessions, and  by  the  earnestness  of  their  despatches  to  other 
powerful  men  in  the  country  to  the  same  effect,  consented  to 
release  them  from  their  imprisonment,  for  such  it  actually  was. 
He  did  so,  and  they  repaired,  headed  by  the  Earls  of  Shrews- 
bury and  Pembroke,  to  Baynard's  Castle,  the  house  of  the  latter 
of  those  noblemen,  who  had  but  a  few  weeks  before  married  his 
heir  to  a  sister  of  the  unfortunate  Jane,  where  they  determined 
to  proclaim  Queen  Mary,  which  was  done  on  the  same  day,  the 
nineteenth  of  July,  1553. 

Jane  received  from  her  father  the  news  of  her  deposition  with 
the  patience,  the  sweetness,  and  the   magnanimity,  which  be- 


LADY    JANE   GEEY.  159 

longed  to  her  surprising  character.  She  reminded  him  with 
gentleness  of  her  unAvillingness  to  assume  the  short-lived  eleva- 
tion, and  expressed  her  hope  that  it  might  in  some  measure 
extenuate  the  grievous  fault  which  she  had  committed  by  accept- 
ing it ;  declared  that  her  relinquishment  of  the  regal  character 
was  the  first  voluntary  act  wdiich  she  had  performed  since  it  was 
first  proposed  to  raise  her  to  it ;  and  humbly  prayed  that  the 
faults  of  others  might  be  treated  with  lenity,  in  a  charitable 
consideration  of  that  disposition  in  herself.  The  weak  and 
miserable  Suffolk  now  hastened  to  join  the  council,  and  arrived 
in  time  to  add  his  signature  to  a  despatch  to  Northumberland, 
requiring  him  to  disband  his  troops,  and  submit  himself  to 
Queen  Mary,  which  however  he  had  done  before  the  messenger 
arrived.  Jane,  whose  royal  palace  had  now  become  the  prison 
of  herself  and  her  husband,  saw,  within  very  few  days,  its  gates 
close  also  on  her  father,  and  on  his.  The  termination  of  North- 
umberland's guilty  career,  which  speedily  followed,  is  well 
known ;  but  Suffolk,  for  some  reasons  yet  undiscovered,  was 
spared.  It  has  been  supposed  that  his  duchess,  who  remained 
at  liberty,  and  is  said  to  have  possessed  some  share  of  the 
queen's  favour,  interceded  successfully  for  him  ;  and  why  may 
we  not  ascribe  this  forbearance  to  the  clemency  of  Mary,  in 
whose  rule  we  find  no  instances  of  cruelty  but  those  whi'ch  ori- 
ginated in  devout  bigotry, — a  vice  which  while  engaged  in  its 
own  proper  pursuits  inevitably  suspends  the  operation  of  all  the 
charities  of  nature? 

There  is  indeed  little  room  to  doubt  that  she  meditated  ta 
extend  her  mercy  to  the  innocent  Jane  and  her  youthful  spouse. 
They  were,  it  is  true,  arraigned  and  convicted  of  high  treason 
on  the  third  of  November  following  the  date  of  their  offence^ 
and  sentenced  to  die ;  but  the  execution  was  delayed,  and  they 
were  allowed  several  liberties  and  indulgences  scarcely  ever 
granted  to  state  prisoners  under  their  circumstances.  The 
hopes  however  thus  excited  were  cut  short  by  the  occurrence 
of  Sir  Thomas  Wyat's  rebellion,  in  which  her  father,  while  the 
wax  was  scarcely  cold  on  his  pardon,  madly  and  ungratefully 
became  an  active  party,  accompanied  by  his  two  brothers. 
Thus  Mary  saw  already  the  great  house  of  Grey  once  nrore 
publicly  in  array  against  her  crown.  The  incentives  to  this 
insurrection  are  somewhat  involved  in  mystery,  and  have  been 


160  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

variouuly  reported.  The  avowed  pretence  for  it  was  an  aversion 
to  the  queen's  proposed  marriage  with  Philip  of  Spain,  but 
there  is  strong  reason  to  believe  that  with  this  motive  was  mixed, 
at  least  in  the  breasts  of  the  leaders,  a  secret  intention  to  re- 
assert the  claim  of  Jane ;  and  Bishop  Cooper,  a  contemporary 
historian,  tells  us  plainly  in  his  Chronicle,  that  the  Duke  of 
Suffolk,  ■"  in  divers  places  as  he  went,  again  proclaimed  his 
daughter."  •  Be  this  however  as  it  might,  it  was  now  resolved 
to  put  her  to  death  without  delay,  and  it  is  pretty  well  authen- 
ticated that  the  queen  confirmed  that  determination  with  much 
reluctance  and  regret. 

Jane  received  the  news  without  discomposure,  and  became 
even  anxious  to  receive  the  final  blow  ;  but  here  the  bigotry  of 
Mary  interfered,  and  she  commanded  that  no  efforts  should  be 
spared  to  reconcile  her  to  that  church  which  arrogantly  denies 
salvation  to  those  who  die  not  in  its  bosom.  She  suffered  the 
importunities,  and  perhaps  the  harshness,  of  several  of  its  most 
eminent  ministers,  with  equal  urbanity  and  firmness.  At  length 
she  was  left  to  Feckenham,  Mary's  favourite  chaplain,  and  af- 
terwards Abbot  of  Westminster,  a  priest  who  united  to  a  steady 
but  well-tempered  zeal  an  acute  understanding,  and  great  sweet- 
ness of  manners,  and  by  him,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the 
day,  she  was  invited  to  a  disputation  on  the  chief  points  of 
difference  between  the  two  churches.  She  told  him  that  she 
could  not  spare  the  time;  ''that  controversy  might  be  fit  for 
the  living,  but  not  for  the  dying ;  and  intreated  him,  as  the  best 
proof  of  the  compassion  which  he  professed  for  her,  to  leave 
her  to  make  her  peace  with  God."  He  conceived  from  these 
expressions  that  she  was  unAvilling  to  quit  the  world,  and  ob- 
tained for  her  a  short  reprieve,  which  when  he  communicated 
to  her,  she  assured  him  that  he  had  misunderstood  her,  for  that, 
far  from  desiring  that  her  death  might  be  delayed,  "  she  ex- 
pected, and  wished  for  it,  as  the  period  of  her  miseries,  and  of 
her  entrance  into  eternal  happiness."  He  then  led  her  into  the 
prc'posed  conference,  in  which  she  acquitted  herself  with  a  firm- 
ness, a  power  of  argument,  and  presence  of  mind,  truly  asto- 
nishing. Unable  to  work  the  slightest  impression,  he  left  her, 
and  she  sat  calmly  down  to  make  a  minute  of  the  substance  of 
their  discourse,  which  she  signed,  and  which  may  be  found  in 
most  of  the  ecclesiastical  histories.     She  now  addressed  a  fare- 


LADY  Jane  grey.  16i 

well  letter  to  her  father,  in  which,  with  much  mildness  of  ex- 
pression, though  certainly  with  less  benignity  of  sentiment  than 
is  usually  ascribed  to  her,  she  repeatedly  glances  at  him  as  the 
author  of  her  unhappy  fate.  She  wrote  also  to  her  sister,  the 
Lady  Catherine  Herbert,  in  the  blank  leaves  of  a  Grreek  Testa- 
ment, which  she  requested  might  be  delivered  as  her  legacy  to 
that  lady,  an  epistle  in  the  same  language,  the  translation  of 
which,  however  frequently  already  published,  ought  not  to  be 
omitted  here. 

"  I  have  sent  you,  my  dear  sister  Catherine,  a  book,  which, 
although  it  be  not  outwardly  trimmed  with  gold,  or  the  curious 
embroidery  of  the  artfullest  needles,  yet  inwardly  it  is  more 
worth  than  all  the  precious  mines  which  the  vast  world  can 
boast  of.  It  is  the  book,  my  only  best  loved  sister,  of  the  law 
of  the  Lord.  It  is  the  testament  and  last  will  which  he  be- 
queathed unto  us  wretches  and  wretched  sinners,  which  shall 
lead  you  to  the  path  of  eternal  joy;  and  if  you  with  a  good 
mind  read  it,  and  with  an  earnest  desire  follow  it,  no  doubt  it 
shall  bring  you  to  an  immortal  and  everlasting  life.  It  will 
teach  you  to  live  and  to  die.  It  shall  win  you  more,  and  endow 
you  with  greater  felicity,  than  you  should  have  gained  by  the 
possession  of  our  woful  father's  lands ;  for  as  if  Grod  had  pros- 
pered him  you  should  have  inherited  his  honours  and  manors, 
so  if  you  apply  diligently  this  book,  seeking  to  direct  your  life 
according  to  the  rule  of  the  same,  you  shall  be  an  inheritor  of 
such  riches  as  neither  the  covetous  shall  withdraw  from  you, 
neither  the  thief  shall  steal,  neither  yet  the  moths  corrupt. 
Desire,  with  David,  my  dear  sister,  to  understand  the  law  of 
the  Lord  thy  God.  Live  still  to  die,  that  you  by  death  may 
purchase  eternal  life  ;  and  trust  not  that  the  tenderness  of  your 
age  shall  lengthen  your  life,  for  unto  God,  when  he  calleth,  all 
hours,  times,  and  seasons,  are  alike,  and  blessed  are  they  whose 
lamps  are  furnished  when  he  cometh,  for  as  soon  will  the  Lord 
be  glorified  in  the  young  as  in  the  old.  My  good  sister,  once 
again  more  let  me  intreat  thee  to  learn  to  die.  Deny  the  world, 
defy  the  devil,  and  despise  the  flesh,  and  delight  yourself  only 
in  the  Lord :  be  penitent  for  your  sins :  and  yet  despair  not : 
be  strong  in  faith,  yet  presume  not :  and  desire,  with  St.  Paul, 
to  be  dissolved,  and  to  be  with  Christ,  with  whom  even  in  death 
there  is  life.  Be  like  the  good  servant,  and  even  at  midnight 
21  o2 


162  LTYES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

be  waking,  lest  when  death  cometh,  and  stealeth  upon  you  like 
a  thief  in  the  night,  you  be  with  the  servants  of  darkness  found 
sleeping ;  and  lest  for  lack  of  oil  you  be  found  like  the  five 
foolish  virgins,  or  like  him  that  had  not  on  the  wedding  gar- 
ment, and  then  you  be  cast  into  darkness,  or  banished  from  the 
marriage.  Rejoice  in  Christ,  as  I  trust  you  do  ;  and,  seeing 
you  have  the  name  of  a  Christian,  as  near  as  you  can  follow 
the  steps,  and  be  a  true  imitator  of  your  master  Christ  Jesus, 
and  take  up  your  cross,  lay  your  sins  on  his  back,  and  always 
embrace  him. 

"  Now,  as  touching  my  death,  rejoice  as  I  do,  my  dearest 
sister,  that  I  shall  be  delivered  of  this  corruption,  and  put  on 
incorruption ;  for  I  am  assured  that  I  shall  for  losing  a  mortal 
life  win  one  that  is  immortal,  joyful,  and  everlasting,  to  which 
I  pray  God  grant  you  in  his  blessed  hour,  and  send  you  his  all- 
saving  grace  to  live  in  his  fear,  and  to  die  in  the  true  Christian 
faith,  from  which  in  God's  name  I  exhort  you  that  you  never 
swerve,  neither  for  hope  of  life  nor  fear  of  death ;  for,  if  you 
will  deny  his  truth  to  give  length  to  a  weary  and  corrupt  breath, 
God  himself  will  deny  you,  and  by  vengeance  make  short  what 
you  by  your  soul's  loss  would  prolong ;  but  if  you  will  cleave 
to  him,  he  will  stretch  forth  your  days  to  an  uncircumscribed 
comfort,  and  to  his  own  glory :  to  the  which  glory  God  bring 
me  now,  and  you  hereafter  when  it  shall  please  him  to  call  you. 
Farewell  once  again,  my  beloved  sister,  and  put  your  only  trust 
in  God,  who  only  must  help  you.  Amen. 
"  Your  loving  sister, 

"Jane  Dudley.'* 

This  letter  was  written  in  the  evening  of  the  eleventh  of 
.February,  1554,  N.  S.,  and  on  the  following  morning  she  was 
led  to  execution.  Before  she  left  her  apartment  she  had  beheld 
from  a  window  the  passage  of  her  husband  to  the  scaffold,  and 
the  return  of  his  mangled  corpse.  She  then  sat  down,  and  wrote 
in  her  tablets  three  short  passages,  in  as  many  languages.  The 
first,  in  Greek,  is  thus  translated — "  If  his  slain  body  shall  give 
testimony  against  me  before  men,  his  blessed  soul  shall  render 
an  eternal  proof  of  my  innocence  before  God."  The  second, 
from  the  Latin — "  The  justice  of  men  took  away  his  body,  but 
the  divine  mercy  has  preserved  his  soul."  The  third  was  in 
English — "If  my  fault  deserved  punishment,  my  youth  and  mv 


LADY   JANE    GREY.  163 

imprudence  were  worthy  of  excuse ;  God  and  posterity  will 
show  me  favour."  This  precious  relic  she  gave  to  the  lieute- 
nant of  the  Tower,  Sir  John  Brjdges,  soon  after  created  Lord 
Chandos.  Endeavours  had  been  incessantly  used  to  gain  her 
over  to  the  Romish  persuasion,  and  Feckenham  embarrassed  her 
by  his  exhortations  even  to  the  moment  of  her  death,  imme- 
diately before  which,  she  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  thanked 
him  courteously  f  i-  his  good  meaning,  but  assured  him  that  they 
had  caused  her  n^  ^-e  uneasiness  than  all  the  terrors  of  her  ap- 
proaching fate.  Kctving  addressed  to  those  assembled  about 
her  a  short  speech,  less  r.....vikable  for  the  matter  which  it  con- 
tained than  for  the  total  absence  even  of  an  allusion  to  her  at- 
tachment to  the  reformed  church,  she  was  put  to  death,  fortu- 
nately Vy  a  single  stroke  of  the  axe. 


164  LIVES   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 


PIERRE  RAMUS. 


^MONG  the  many  victims  of  the  massarre 
of  Saint  Bartholomew  was  the  celebrated 
Pierre  de  la  Ramde,  more  generally  known 
by  the  name  of  Ramus.  Born  in  1515,  in 
a  village  in  Normandy,  his  parents  were  of 
-^^  the  poorest  rank ;  his  grandfather  being  a 
sj.  charbonnier,  a  calling  similar  to  that  of  our  coal- 
heaver,  and  his  father  a  labourer.  Poverty  being 
his  consequent  inheritance,  Ramus  was  early  left 
to  his  own  resources ;  no  sooner,  therefore,  had  he 
attained  the  age  of  eight  years  than  he  repaired  to 
Paris ;  the  difficulty  he  found  there  of  obtaining  com- 
mon subsistence  soon  obliged  him  to  return  home: 
another  attempt  which  he  afterwards  made  met  with  no 
better  success.  Early  imbued  with  a  strong  love  and 
desire  for  learning,  he  suffered  every  misery  and  privation 
In  order  to  obtain  the  means  necessary  for  its  acquirement. 
Having  received  a  limited  aid  from  one  of  his  uncles,  he,  for  a 
third  time,  set  out  for  Paris,  where,  immediately  on  his  arrival, 
he  entered  the  college  of  Navarre  in  the  capacity  of  a  valet, 
during  the  day  fulfilling  every  menial  task,  but  devoting  his 
nights  to  his  dear  and  absorbing  study.  This  extreme  per- 
severance and  application,  regardless  of  difficulties,  obtained  its 
consequent  reward ;  being  admitted  to  the  degree  of  master  of 
arts,  which  he  received  with  all  its  accompanying  scholastic 
honours,  he  was  enabled  to  devote  himself  with  more  intensity 
to  study.  He,  by  the  opinions  which  he  promulgated  in  the 
form  of  a  thesis,  respecting  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle,  a  doubt 
of  whose  sovereign  authority  at  that  time  was  considered  a  pro- 
fane and  audacious  sacrilege,  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
scholars  of  the  time,  and   ultimately  their  enmity.     With  the 


PIERRE   RAMUS.  165 

uncompromising  hardihood  of  his  character,  he  continued  to 
deny  the  infallibility  of  the  favourite  code  of  philosophy,  and 
published,  in  support  of  his  opinions,  two  volumes  of  criticisms 
upon  his  works. 

Ramus  was  at  first  persecuted  merely  with  scholastic  virulence, 
but  on  his  further  irritating  his  opponents,  a  serious  accusation 
was  brought  against  him,  before  the  parliament  of  Paris;  and 
to  such  lengths  had  the  matter  gone  as  to  call  for  the  mediation 
of  Francis  the  First. 

Ramus  was  found  guilty,  and  sentenced,  in  1543,  to  vacate 
his  professorship,  and  his  works  interdicted  throughout  the 
kingdom.  This  severe  sentence,  however,  did  not  produce  the 
effect  desired  by  the  Sorbonne,  for  on  the  following  year  he  was 
appointed  to  a  professorship  in  the  college  of  Presles,  and,  in 
1551,  received  the  further  appointment  of  royal  professor  of 
philosophy  and  rhetoric.  His  opinions  had,  however,  attracted 
the  attention  and  enmity  of  ,a  more  powerful  body  than  that  of 
the  Sorbonne.  To  contest  the  infallibility  of  Aristotle,  at  the 
same  time  that  it  attacked  scholastic  prejudices,  was  sufficient 
to  provoke  a  revolution  even  in  theology. 

The  consequence  to  Ramus  was  implacable  hatred  from  the 
ecclesiastical  body,  who  seemed  intent  upon  his  destruction. 

The  persecution  of  Ramus  was  carried  to  such  an  extent, 
that,  according  to  Bayle,  he  was  "  obliged  to  conceal  himself; 
at  the  king's  instigation  he  for  some  time  secreted  himself  at 
Fontainbleau,  where,  by  the  aid  of  the  works  he  found  in  the 
royal  library,  he  was  enabled  to  prosecute  his  geometrical  and 
astronomical  studies.  On  his  residence  there  being  discovered, 
he  successively  concealed  himself  in  different  places,  thinking 
by  that  means  to  evade  his  relentless  persecutors.  During  his 
absence,  his  library  at  Presles  was  given  up  to  public  pillage. 

"  On  the  proclamation  of  peace,  in  the  year  1563,  between 
Charles  the  Ninth  and  the  Protestants,  Ramus  returned  to  his 
professorship,  devoting  himself  principally  to  the  teaching  of 
mathematics.  On  the  breaking  out  of  the  second  civil  war,  in 
1567,  he  was  again  obliged  to  quit  Paris,  and  seek  protection 
in  the  Huguenot  camp,  where  he  remained  until  the  battle  of 
St.  Denis.  A  few  months  after  this,  on  peace  being  again  pro- 
claimed, he  once  more  returned  to  his  professional  duties ;  but 
foreseeing  the  inevitable  approach  of  another  war,  and  fearing 


166  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

the  consequent  result,  he  sued  for  the  king's  permission  of 
absence,  under  the  plea  of  visiting  the  German  academies,  which 
being  granted,  he  retired  to  German}^,  in  1568,  where  he  was 
received  with  every  demonstration  of  honour.  Ramus  returned 
to  France  on  the  conclusion  of  the  third  war,  in  1571,  and 
perished  in  the  hideous  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  as  related 
by  Moreri." 

The  following  is  the  passage  in  Moreri,  alluded  to  by  Bayle: — 
<«  Ramus  having  concealed  himself  during  the  tumult  of  the 
massacre,  he  was  discovered  by  the  assassins  sent  by  Charpen- 
tier,  his  competitor.  After  having  paid  a  large  sum  of  money, 
in  the  hopes  of  bribing  his  assassins  to  preserve  his  life,  he  was 
severely  wounded,  and  thrown  from  the  window  into  the  court 
beneath ;  partly  in  consequence  of  the  wounds  received  and  the 
effects  of  the  fall,  his  bowels  protruded.  The  scholars,  en- 
couraged by  the  presence  of  their  professors,  no  sooner  saw 
this  than  they  tore  them  from  the  body,  and  scattered  them  in 
the  street,  along  which  they  dragged  fhe  body,  beating  it  with 
rods  by  way  of  contempt." 

We  cannot  feel  surprised  at  Ramus  becoming  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal victims  of  this  horrid  massacre.  By  the  means  of  so  many 
foul  and  horrid  murders  the  Catholic  party  had  hoped  to  anni- 
nilate  protestantism  in  France,  or  at  least  so  to  weaken  its  in- 
fluence as  to  render  its  party  powerless.  \Ye  can  easily  conceive 
the  reason  why  a  man  who,  by  the  tendency  and  boldness  of 
his  opinions,  had  -become  one  of  the  powerful  supporters  of  the 
Huguenot  part}^,  as  well  as  one  of  its  most  powerful  and  per- 
suasive orators,  should  not  be  spared;  but  we  are  astonished 
and  horrified  when  we  see  the  effects  of  political  or  religious 
fanaticism  falling  on  the  poor  and  the  simple,  the  meek  and  the 
peaceful  women  and  children,  the  young  and  the  beautiful, — 
all  suffering  equally  with  the  strong  and  the  powerful,  the  proud 
and  the  talented. 

One  of  the  great  subjects  of  reform  attempted  by  Ramus, 
and  which  created  the  greatest  animosity  against  him,  was  that 
which  had  for  its  object  the  introduction  of  a  democratical 
government  into  the  church.  He  pretended  that  the  consistories 
alone  ought  to  prepare  all  questions  of  doctrine,  and  submit 
them  to  the  judgment  of  the  faithful.  The  people,  according 
to  his  tenets,  possessed  in  themselves  the  right  of  choosing  their 


PIERRE   RAMUS  167 

ministers,  of  excommunication,  and  absolution.  We  quote  these 
opinions,  inculcated  by  Ramus,  to  show  in  what  spirit  of  contra- 
diction his  opinions  were  with  the  prevailing  faith  of  the  six- 
teenth century.  It  is  a  subject  of  much  too  deep  and  serious 
a  character  to  discuss  here.  The  private  life  of  Ramus  was 
most  irreproachable;  entirely  devoting  himself  to  study  and 
research,  he  refused  the  most  lucrative  preferments,  choosing 
rather  the  situation  of  professor  at  the  college  of  Presles.  His 
temperance  was  exemplary :  except  a  little  bouilli,  he  ate  little 
else  for  dinner.  For  twenty  years  he  had  not  tasted  wine,  and 
afterwards  when  he  partook  of  it,  it  was  by  the  order  of  his 
physicians.  His  bed  was  of  straw ;  he  rose  early,  and  studied 
late ;  he  was  never  known  to  foster  an  evil  passion  of  any  kind ; 
he  possessed  the  greatest  firmness  under  misfortune.  His  only 
reproach  was  his  obstinacy,  but  every  man  who  is  strongly 
attached  to  his  conviction  is  subject  to  this  reproach. 


168 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JOHN  MILTON. 


T  may  appear  singular  that  of  Milton's  early 
life  we  have  but  a  few  meagre  items.  Such 
is  the  case.  He  was  born  in  Bread  street, 
London,  December  9,  1608,  and  at  an  early 
period  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  a  good  edu- 
cation. This  is  to  be  ascribed  chiefly  to  the 
character  of  his  father,  who  possessed  an  ar- 
dent love  of  knowledge,  a  fine  taste,  and  a  con- 
siderable knowledge  of  music.  Milton's  first 
teacher  was  Thomas  Young,  a  Puritan,  w^ho  was 
afterwards  chaplain  to  the  English  merchants  at 
Hamburg.  He  next  entered  St.  Paul's  school,  and 
afterwards  Christ  College,  at  Cambridge,  where  he 
studied  the  highest  branches  of  learning.  At  the  age 
of  twenty-four,  he  took  the  degree  of  master  of  arts, 
quitted  Cambridge,  having,  while  there,  given  evidence 
of  poetic  genius  as  well  as  industry  and  general  talent.  The 
next  five  years  of  his  life  were  spent  on  his  father's  estate^ 
in  Buckinghamshire,  where  he  studied  the  ancient  classics 
and  the  great  works  of  European  literature.  This  was, 
perhaps,  the  golden  period  of  Milton's  life.  iVmid  the  varying 
beauties  of  rural  scenery,  he  indulged  and  developed  the  powers 
of  his  intellect,  and  imbibed  that  ardent  love  for  the  beauties  of 
nature,  which  was  afterwards  displayed  in  the  noble  imagery  of 
Paradise  Lost.  Then  he  composed  the  Mask  of  Comus,  founded, 
it  is  said,  on  an  incident  in  the  life  of  Lady  Alice  Egerton,  by 
whom,  with  the  assistance  of  her  brothers,  it  was  performed  at 
Ludlow  Castle,  on  Michaelmas  eve,  1634.  Here,  also,  were 
composed  Lycidas,  Arcades,  L' Allegro,  and  II  Penseroso — 
poems  whose  expressions  and  thoughts  have  become  household 
ivords  in  every  land  where  the  English  language  is  spoken. 
In  1638,  Milton  obtained  his  father's  consent  to  visit  Europe. 


JOHN   MILTON.  16& 

On  reaching  Paris,  he  was  introduced  by  Lord  Sendarnore  to 
the  celebrated  Grotius,  then  ambassador  from  Christina,  Queen 
of  Sweden.  But  to  a  mind  like  his  the  French  capital  could 
have  but  few  attractions,  and,  after  a  brief  stay,  he  again  pro- 
ceeded to  the  south.  Nice,  Genoa,  Pisa,  and  Florence  were 
successively  visited.  The  language  and  manners  of  the  Flo- 
rentines, and  the  circle  of  their  literary  men,  to  whom  he  was 
introduced,  excited  Milton's  liveliest  admiration.  An  impres- 
sion equally  deep,  but  of  a  more  melancholy  nature,  was  occa- 
sioned  by  a  sight  of  Rome.  There,  also,  his  fame  as  a  poet  had 
preceded  him.  He  was  welcomed  as  a  brother  by  the  learned, 
and  derived  high  gratification  from  the  rich  stores  of  classical 
learning  which  were  thrown  open  to  him  in  the  Vatican. 

These  flattering  prospects  were  clouded  by  news  from  home. 
His  native  country  was  on  the  brink  of  the  first  civil  war — that 
great  revolution  in  which  the  English  people  battled  against 
bigotry,  superstition,  and  intolerance,  for  those  privileges  which 
nothing  can  wrest  from  man  but  the  injustice  of  his  fellow-man, 
Milton  was  a  republican ;  he  felt  and  lamented  the  miseries  of 
his  country,  and  he  looked  forward  to  the  coming  contest  be- 
tween the  two  great  parties  with  deep  emotion.  When  on  the 
point  of  embarking  for  Sicily,  he  learned  that  the  contest  had 
begun.  He  at  once  abandoned  his  plans  of  personal  gratifica- 
tion, and  resolved  to  return  to  England,  "  deeming  it,"  says 
his  nephew,  '^  a  thing  unworthy  of  him  to  be  diverting  himself 
in  security  abroad,  when  his  countrymen  were  contending  with 
an  insidious  monarch  for  their  liberty."  After  an  absence  of 
fifteen  months,  he  arrived  in  England,  about  the  time  that 
Charles  I.  was  setting  out  on  his  second  expedition  against  the 
Scots.  For  a  while  he  instructed  the  children  of  a  few  of  his 
friends,  engaging  his  leisure  hours  in  the  production  of  works 
tending  to  promote  the  republican  cause.  One  of  the  most 
important  of  these  was  his  vindicating  the  freedom  of  the  press, 
by  which  he  drew  upon  himself  the  united  hatred  of  a  tyran- 
nical king,  of  the  loyalists  in  parliament,  and  of  the  cruel 
emissaries  of  the  star-chamber.  He  escaped  the  consequences 
of  his  boldness,  and  was  soon  permitted  to  see  the  triumph  of 
his  party,  the  destruction  of  the  star-chamber,  and  the  death 
of  the  English  king. 

Before  describing  the  labours  and  sufferings  of  Milton  in  the 
22  P 


170  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

cause  of  liberty,  it  may  not  be  inappropriate  to  glance  at  some 
events  of  his  domestic  life.  That  he  had  the  most  pure  and 
elevated  ideas  of  the  marriage  state,  no  one,  who  has  read  the 
Paradise  Lost,  is  ignorant.  It  is  a  mournful  fact,  that  he  was 
never  permitted  to  realize  those  ideas.  At  the  age  of  thirty- 
five,  he  married  his  first  wife,  Mary,  the  daughter  of  a  wealthy 
royalist  and  justice  of  the  peace  in  Oxfordshire.  The  circum- 
stances which  led  to  the  union  are  not  known.  After  being  a 
month  with  her  husband,  the  bride  requested  and  obtained  per- 
mission to  spend  the  remainder  of  the  summer  with  her  rela- 
tives. Michaelmas  was  fixed  upon  for  her  return.  She  still 
remained,  however,  refusing  to  answer  Milton's  letters,  and 
treating  his  messenger  with  contempt.  Incensed  at  this  con- 
duct, Milton  declared  that  he  no  longer  regarded  her  as  his 
wife,  and  soon  afterwards  published  his  rigorous  and  too  partial 
work  on  the  Doctrine  and  Discipline  of  Divorce.  Time  caused 
the  banished  one  to  repent  her  conduct,  and,  on  hearing  of 
Milton's  intention  to  visit  a  common  friend,  she  suddenly  ap- 
peared before  him,  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  and  begged  for- 
giveness. A  cordial  reconciliation  took  place,  and  the  poet 
afterwards  received  her  family  into  his  own  house.  In  this 
transaction,  we  should  not  condemn  the  lady's  conduct  too 
harshly.  The  merits  of  her  disaifection  are  not  well  known; 
but  it  is  certain  that  she  was  influenced  principally  by  her 
friends.  One  fact  is  clear — she  was  no  suitable  wife  for  Milton. 
Meanwhile,  the  poet  published  his  "  Treatise  on  Education," 
in  which  he  condemns  the  method  of  confining  the  studies  of 
youth  to  one  or  two  dead  languages.  In  1649,  an  event  oc- 
curred which  has  been  the  occasion  of  much  censure  to  Milton, 
and  for  which  a  great  party,  even  at  the  present  day,  condemn 
his  political  career.  This  was  the  death  of  Charles  I.  Though 
Milton  seems  to  have  approved  of  that  act,  he  was  in  no  way 
implicated  in  it ;  but,  becoming  disgusted  with  many  who  openly 
lamented  it,  while  really  rejoicing,  he  published  his  "  Tenure 
of  Kings  and  Magistrates,"  which,  as  he  observes,  "  was  not 
published  till  after  the  death  of  the  king,  and  was  written 
rather  to  tranquillize  the  minds  of  men,  than  to  discuss  any 
part  of  the  question  respecting  Charles — a  question  the  deci- 
sion of  which  belonged  to  the  magistrate,  and  not  to  me,  and 
which  had  now  received  its  final  determination."     Soon  after 


JOHN   MILTON.  171 

he  became  Latin  secretary  of  state  to  Cromwell.  At  that 
time  appeared  a  book  called  EikonBasilike,  "  The  Royal  Image." 
It  professed  to  be  a  series  of  meditations  drawn  up  by  Charles 
during  his  captivity.  Its  effect  was  powerful.  Fifty  thousand 
copies  were  sold  in  a  few  months.  All  classes  denounced  the 
new  government  as  guilty  of  the  darkest  crimes  in  their  treat- 
ment of  the  royal  martyr.  To  counteract  this  dangerous  influ- 
ence, Milton  drew  up  a  commentary  entitled  Eiconoclastes,  or 
"  Image  Breaker."  Of  course,  as  the  popular  feeling  then  was, 
the  success  of  this  commentary  could  be  only  partial.  Not 
long  after  (1651)  appeared  his  "Defence  of  the  People  of  Eng- 
land," in  reply  to  a  work  of  Salmasius  of  Leyden,  a  tool  of 
Charles's  son.  The  reception  of  this  work  in  all  the  countries 
of  Christendom  astonished  Milton  himself.  The  most  eminent 
men  of  Europe  hastened  to  present  to  him  their  encomiums. 
Queen  Christina  of  Sweden  specially  marked  her  admiration 
of  it.  It  was  translated  into  Dutch  for  the  benefit  of  the  coun- 
trymen of  Salmasius,  but  much  to  his  own  annoyance.  Mean- 
while, it  was  publicly  burned  at  Paris  and  Toulouse.  This  De- 
fence completely  accomplished  the  purpose  for  which  it  was 
written  ;  and  Salmasius,  after  labouring  in  vain  to  produce  an 
answer,  died  in  1653,  the  victim,  as  is  supposed,  of  wounded 
pride. 

On  the  2d  of  May,  1652,  Milton*s  first  wife  died,  leaving 
him  with  three  daughters,  the  youngest  a  new-born  babe  ;  andy 
to  add  to  this  affliction,  the  approach  of  blindness,  which  had 
long  been  dreaded,  became  rapid  and  inevitable.  But  he  did 
not  repine.  It  was  while  studying  and  writing  in  defence  of 
liberty  that  his  eye-sight  first  failed,  and  he  regarded  it  more 
as  a  sacrifice  in  that  great  cause  than  as  subject  of  lamentation. 
When  taunted  by  the  heartless  scoffers  of  that  age,  he  replied, 
4^  It  is  not  miserable  to  be  blind.  He  only  is  miserable  who 
cannot  acquiesce  in  his  blindness  with  fortitude ;  and  why 
should  I  repine  at  a  calamity  which  every  man's  mind  ought  to 
be  so  prepared  and  disciplined  for  as  to  be  able  to  undergo  with 
patience — a  calamity  to  which  every  man,  by  the  condition  of 
his  nature,  is  liable,  and  which  I  know  to  have  been  the  lot  of 
some  of  the  greatest  and  best  of  my  species."  The  same  calm- 
ness and  Christian  dignity  breathe  through  the  sonnet  upon  his 
blindness.     His   strength   of    mind  and    natural    cheerfulness, 


172  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

modified  bj  his  unwavering  confidence  in  an  all-wise  Providence^ 
were  superior  to  every  accident  and  to  every  misfortune.  He 
still  continued  to  dictate  the  most  important  correspondence  of 
the  commonwealth ;  he  took  an  active  share  in  Cromwell's 
foreign  policy  ;  he  stayed  the  sword  of  Romish  persecution  in 
Piedmont,  and  caused  even  the  Vatican  to  respect  for  a  few 
years  the  rights  of  conscience ;  he  conducted  the  correspond- 
ence which  set  at  defiance  the  haughty  bigotry  of  Spain.  Even 
while  engaged  in  these  severe  duties,  he  found  time  to  follow  his 
favourite  literary  pursuits.  The  principal  of  these  were  a 
Latin  Dictionary,  a  History  of  England,  and  one  other  work, 
which  will  be  mentioned  hereafter.  Meanwhile,  he  married  his 
second  wife,  Catherine,  the  daughter  of  Captain  Woodcock,  a 
zealous  republican.  Within  a  year  she  gave  birth  to  a  child, 
and  soon  after  both  died.  It  was  to  her  memory  that  the  poet 
dedicated  the  sonnet  in  which  he  represents  "  his  late  espoused 
saint"  coming  to  him  in  such  an  appearance  as  afterwards  he 
"trusted  to  have  full  sight  of  in  heaven." 

After  the  Restoration,  Milton  was  discharged  from  the  office 
of  Latin  secretary.  During  the  first  outburst  of  loyal  revenge, 
he  secreted  himself  in  a  house  at  St.  Bartholomew  Close,  while 
his  friends  spread  a  report  of  his  death,  and  followed  in  mourn- 
ful procession  his  fictitious  corpse  to  the  grave.  x\fter  the 
scheme  was  discovered,  the  attorney-general  was  directed  to 
commence  a  prosecution  against  him  ;  and  his  two  books,  the 
Eiconoclastes  and  the  Defence  of  the  People,  were  consigned 
to  the  flames.  He  was  included  in  the  general  act  of  oblivion; 
but,  on  leaving  his  retirement,  was  arrested  by  parliament.  He 
escaped  their  resentment  by  the  payment  of  costly  fees,  and 
retired  to  his  humble  home,  never  again  to  mingle  in  the  afi'airs 
of  state. 

And  now,  cut  off  from  society  by  the  hatred  of  shamelesi 
enemies,  and  from  outward  communion  with  nature  through  the 
dearest  of  all  the  senses,  worn  down  in  the  service  of  an  un- 
grateful people,  poor,  despised,  insulted,  Milton  retired  to  the 
humble  dwelling  where  his  future  life  was  to  be  one  dark,  un- 
interrupted struggle  with  privation  and  sorrow.  Other  men 
would  have  employed  that  period  in  mourning  for  a  few  short 
months,  and  then  sinking  heart-broken  into  the  grave.  MiltoD 
•^.mployed  it  in  writing  Paradise  Lost. 


JOHN   MILTON.  I73 

It  appears  that  very  early  in  life  he  had  formed  the  design 
of  writing  an  epic  poem.  His  first  subject  had  been  drawn 
from  the  life  of  King  Arthur  ;  but  his  deep  religious  feelings 
and  his  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  beauties  of  the  holy 
Scriptures,  at  length  decided  his  choice.  Paradise  Lost  was 
begun  about  two  years  before  the  Restoration,  and  finished  three 
years  after  that  event.  It  seems  curious  that  the  much  larger 
portion  of  it  was  written  during  the  winter  seasons.  Unable 
to  write  himself,  the  poet  was  obliged  to  compose  and  retain  in 
his  memory  the  successive  passages  until  he  could  obtain  some 
one  to  write  them  down.  It  might  be  supposed  that,  in  this 
privilege,  his  daughters  would  vie  with  each  other  ;  but  they 
treated  him  with  cruel  neglect,  and  the  poet  was  obliged  to  de- 
pend in  a  great  measure  upon  the  kindness  of  strangers.  His 
youngest  daughter  atoned  in  some  measure  for  her  sisters'  con- 
duct. She  read  to  her  father,  solaced  his  lonely  hours,  and 
often  assisted  in  penning  his  immortal  words.  In  consequence, 
perhaps,  of  his  loneliness,  the  poet  entered  for  the  third  time 
into  the  matrimonial  relation — a  step  which  must  strike  us  as 
rather  strange  under  the  circumstance.  At  the  age  of  fifty- 
four  he  married  Elizabeth  Minshall,  the  daughter  of  a  gentle- 
man of  Cheshire.  She  proved  an  amiable  companion,  and  con- 
tributed much  to  solace  the  remaining  years  of  her  husband's 
life.  Amid  the  quiet  seclusion  of  his  little  family,  Milton  de- 
voted all  his  energies  to  his  poem.  The  remembrances  of  hap- 
pier days,  the  scenes  of  Rome,  Florence,  and  Naples,  the  ex- 
tensive parks  and  quiet  lawns  of  his  own  country,  the  hurrj;  of 
political  life,  and  the  dissolute  revel,  which  surrounded  his  later 
days,  were  all  made  sources  of  some  image  or  description.  It 
appears  from  Milton's  writings,  that,  on  some  occasions,  he  be- 
lieved himself  actually  inspired,  and,  before  we  smile  at  such  an 
opinion  as  presumptuous,  it  might  be  well  to  peruse  afresh  his 
descriptions  of  the  spirit  world,  and  of  that  state  of  primitive 
innocence  for  which  the  unhappy  poet  so  ardently  longed. 
These  are  treated  with  majesty  and  solemnity,  at  which  criti- 
ijism  is  awe-struck,  while  the  flow  of  noblest  harmony  seems  to 
be  not  the  voice  of  human  genius,  but  the  song  of  the  seraphs 
whose  devotions  it  records. 

The  Paradise  Lost  was  published  in  1665.  When  prepared 
for  the   press,  it  narrowly   escaped  suppression   through   the 

p2 


174  LIVES   OP  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

bigotry  of  the  licenser,  Thomas  Tomkins,  to  whose  judgment  it 
Aad  been  committed,  and  who  was,  of  course,  prepared  to  de- 
tect treason  in  every  line.  For  the  first  edition  Milton  re- 
ceived five  pounds,  and  a  stipulation  of  fifteen  pounds  more 
if  it  should  reach  a  third  edition  !  Its  sale  was  tolerably  rapid, 
and,  notwithstanding  the  false  taste  of  the  literary  men  of  that 
age,  it  met  with  much  admiration.  But  it  triumphed  over  bad 
taste  and  worse  criticism,  prejudice,  and  bigotry;  and  now  the 
great  of  all  nations  rank  the  poor  blind  bard  of  England  with 
the  few  mighty  intellects,  which,  either  in  ancient  or  modern 
times,  have,  in  the  highest  department  of  literature,  won  for 
themselves  immortality. 

In  1670,  appeared  Paradise  Regained,  and  about  the  same 
time,  Samson  Agonistes.  Previous  to  this,  the  office  of  Latin 
secretary  had  been  tendered  him  by  Charles  II. ;  but  it  was 
promptly  declined,  and  the  contemptuous  manner  in  which  he 
was  afterwards  treated  by  the  royalists,  shows  they  had  not 
abated  any  portion  of  their  malice  toward  him.  The  following 
anecdote,  which  is  believed  authentic,  will  serve  to  illustrate 
this  opinion.  The  Duke  of  York,  brother  to  the  king,  and 
afterwards  his  successor,  expressed  to  Charles  his  desire  to  see 
"  old  Milton."  The  request  was,  of  course,  granted,  and 
James  was  introduced  to  the  great  poet.  A  free  conversation 
ensued,  during  which  the  duke  asked  Milton  if  he  did  not  re- 
gard the  loss  of  his  eye-sight  as  a  judgment  for  what  he  had 
written  against  the  late  king.  «'If  your  highness,"  answered 
Milton,  "  thinks  that  the  calamities  which  befal  us  here  are  in- 
dications of  the  wrath  of  heaven,  in  what  manner  are  we  to 
account  for  the  fate  of  the  king,  your  father  ?"  The  duke  left 
him.  At  the  next  interview  of  the  royal  brothers,  James  ex- 
horted the  king  to  have  Milton  hanged.  "  Why,"  answered 
Charles,  "is  he  not  old,  poor,  and  blind?"  "Yes."  "  Then 
hanging  him  would  be  doing  him  a  service ;  it  will  be  taking 
him  out  of  his  miseries  ;  now  he  is  miserable  enough,  and  by 
all  means  let  him  live." 

During  the  great  plague  in  1665,  a  young  man  named 
Ellwood,  who  had  studied  under  Milton,  displayed  his  gratitude 
toward  the  poet  by  removing  him  to  a  pleasant  cottage  at  Chal- 
font,  in  Buckinghamshire.  It  was  during  the  same  year,  as 
has  already  been  mentioned,  that  the  first  edition  of  his  great 


JOHN   MILTON.  175 

poem  appeared ;  but,  before  a  second  vras  called  for,  the  author  was 
numbered  Avith  the  dead.  "  With  a  dissolution  so  easy  that  it  was 
unperceived  by  the  persons  in  his  bed-chamber,  he  closed  a  life 
clouded,  indeed,  by  uncommon  and  various  calamities,  yet  en- 
nobled by  the  constant  exercise  of  such  rare  endowments  as 
render  his  name,  perhaps,  the  very  first  in  that  radiant  and 
comprehensive  list  of  which  England  has  reason  to  be  proud." 
His  remains  were  followed  to  their  resting-place  in  St.  Giles's 
church,  Cripplegate,  by  a  large  concourse,  including  many  of 
the  wealthiest  and  most  learned  individuals  of  London.  A  fine 
monument  was  subsequently  raised  to  his  memory  by  the  mu- 
nificence of  a  private  individual. 

In  this  sketch  of  Milton's  life,  we  have  enumerated  only 
those  works  in  prose  and  in  verse  on  which  his  fame  as  a  lite- 
rary man  is  founded.  It  is  not  our  place  to  enter  into  an  ex- 
amination of  these  ;  but  rather  to  show  how,  as  a  Christian, 
the  great  poet  is  entitled  to  our  veneration.  He  is  generally 
accused  of  harshness  of  temper,  and  a  fondness  for  rancor- 
ous disputation.  Sometimes  he  has  transgressed  on  these 
points  ;  but,  in  that  age,  he  who  could  have  taken  part  in  the 
defence  of  liberty  without  transgressing,  must  have  been  more 
than  man.  Then  the  great  battle  was  fought  which  involved 
in  its  shock  the  liberty,  the  dearest  rights,  perhaps  national 
existence,  of  the  English  people.  He  Avho  led  either  party,  had 
need  of  a  commanding  voice,  and  of  an  inflexibilitj  of  purpose 
which  would  stop  at  no  half-way  measures.  Such  was  Milton's 
character ;  and  his  very  errors  should  be  regarded  with  kind- 
ness and  indulgence.  But,  in  domestic  life,  he  was  the 
kind  father,  the  affectionate  husband ;  in  religious  life,  he  was 
the  humble  follower  of  Jesus.  He  rose  at  four  in  the  summer 
months,  and  at  five  in  winter.  Two  'hours  were  devoted  to 
hearing  the  Scripture  and  to  private  meditation  and  devotion ; 
his  meals  were  short  and  temperate  ;  and  the  remaining  portion 
of  the  day,  with  the  exception  of  other  devotional  duties  and 
of  occasional  relaxation  on  the  organ,  was  given  to  study.  So 
rigid  was  his  economy  of  time,  that  it  may  be  said  with  truth, 
that  few  men  ever  lived  longer  than  he,  although  he  died  at  the 
age  of  sixty-six. 


176 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 


ULEIC   ZWINGLE. 


WINGLE  was  born  at  Wildhaus,  on  Lake  Zu- 
.  rich,  January  1,  1484.  His  father  had  raised 
himself  from  a  peasant  to  the  chief  magistracy 
of  the  district,  and  determined,  when  his  son 
Avas  quite  young,  to  give  him  a  learned  edu- 
cation. Until  ten  years  old,  Ulric  was  edu- 
cated by  an  uncle ;  afterward,  he  was  taught 
at  Basil,  and  then  at  Berne.  Here,  while  stu- 
dying poetry  and  belles-lettres,  he  evinced  such 
talent  that  the  Dominicans  endeavoured  to  draw 
him  into  their  convent.  His  father  opposed  this, 
and  ordered  him  to  Vienna.  Here,  during  two 
years,  he  studied  philosophy.  When  returning  to 
Basil,  he  entered  upon  a  theological  course  under 
Thomas  Wittembach.  At  the  age  of  eighteen  he  be- 
came a  teacher,  and,  in  the  four  ensuing  years,  taught 
and  studied  with  so  much  assiduity  that  he  was  created  master 
of  arts.  He  first  preached  at  Rapersville,  was  soon  after 
ordained  priest,  and  became  pastor  of  the  town  of  Glaris. 

Zwingle  now  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, examining  and  elucidating  them  by  the  ancient  fa- 
thers. Yet  the  Bible  was  to  him  a  sealed  book ;  and  he 
Beems  to  have  clung  to  the  errors  of  popery  with  blind  tenar- 
city,  until,  out  of  mere  curiosity,  he  commenced  the  reading  of 
Wiclif 's  writings  and  those  of  the  Bohemian  reformers.  He 
perceived  that  those  men,  though  denounced  as  heretics,  were 
actually  moral  and  pious  ;  that  their  doctrines  were  scriptural ; 
and  that  they  were  right  in  pronouncing  the  Romish  church 
corrupt,  the  clergy  ignorant  and  licentious.  Every  day  his 
personal  observation  convinced  him  that  the  power  which  he 
had  formerly  regarded  as  supremely  good,  was  sunk  in  corrup- 


ULKIC   ZWINGLE.  17T 

tion  and  wickedness,  and  that  it  oppressed  the  souls  of  those 
whom  it  professed  to  make  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  But, 
as  yet,  Zwingle  had  no  intention  of  being  a  reformer ;  and, 
during  his  ten  years'  labour  at  Glaris,  he  confined  himself  to 
instructing  his  own  congregation  in  the  word  of  God  and  the 
practice  of  piety.  Even  in  this  comparatively  humble  occupa- 
tion, he  excited  the  jealousy  of  Rome,  and  was  accused  of  dwelling 
on  the  necessity  of  a  holy  life  rather  than  the  merits  of  fasts, 
miracles,  pilgrimages,  relics,  and  indulgences.  While  the  dis- 
content of  many  was  ripe  against  him,  he  was  ordered  by  go- 
vernment to  attend  the  Swiss  soldiers  to  Italy  as  chaplain  dur- 
ing their  wars  in  favour  of  the  pope  against  the  French.  Zwin- 
gle obeyed  with  reluctance.  His  countrymen  were  defeated  at 
Marignano,  and  the  chaplain  seized  the  occasion  to  advise  his 
government  against  the  practice  of  hiring  out  their  troops  to 
foreign  masters.  In  his  letter  we  find  the  germ  of  his  future 
opposition  to  popery ;  but  at  the  time  it  gained  him  few  friends 
and  many  enemies. 

On  returning  from  Italy,  (1516,)  Zwingle  accepted  the  offer 
of  the  Baron  of  Geroldseck,  to  become  abb^  in  the  convent  of 
Einseindeln.  Here  he  laboured  to  extend  the  truth  which  he 
had  discovered.  His  patron.  Baron  Theobald,  was  among  his 
first  converts,  and  soon  after  was  abolished  the  inscription  over 
the  entrance  of  the  abbey,  '•  Here  plenary  remission  of  all 
sins  is  obtained,"  together  with  the  relics  and  images.  He  re- 
formed the  convent,  permitted  the  nuns  to  return  to  the  world 
if  they  chose,  and  endeavoured  to  convince  the  pilgrims  who 
visited  the  abbey  that  bodily  afflictions  and  performances  did 
not  entitle  them  to  the  approbation  of  God.  These  steps  were 
the  prelude  to  one  more  important.  On  the  anniversary  of  the 
consecration  of  the  abbey,  the  fearless  priest  proclaimed  to  the 
assembled  crowds  that,  without  a  change  of  heart,  none  could 
be  saved  ;  that  adoration  of  images  and  of  the  queen  of  heaven 
was  sacrilege ;  that  Jesus  Christ  was  the  sole  mediator  between 
God  and  man.  A  violent  uproar  ensued ;  part  of  the  congre- 
gation admired  the  preacher ;  part  called  him  a  hypocrite. 
The  neighbouring  monks,  finding  the  revenue  of  the  day  less 
than  usual,  clamoured  unanimously  against  him.  Yet  Zwingle 
still  regarded  the  Romish  church  as  the  true  church ;  and  the 
pope  and  his  legate,  with  a-blindness  as  injurious  to  their  cause 
28 


178  LIVES    OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

US  it  was  unusual,  admired  the  talents  of  the  reformer,  and 
endeavoured  to  win  him  to  their  personal  service. 

Notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  his  enemies,  Zwingle  had  se- 
cured to  himself  many  friends  and  extensive  popularity.  In 
1518,  when  the  cathedral  of  Zurich  was  without  a  preacher,  he 
accepted  an  invitation  to  supply  it.  His  first  step  was  to  lay 
before  those  who  had  called  him  a  statement  of  the  plan  of 
preaching  which  he  intended  to  pursue.  It  was  to  make  Scrip- 
ture explain  Scripture,  and  to  expound  the  word  of  God  as  it 
had  been  done  by  the  apostles  and  earlier  fathers.  His  first 
sermon  in  the  cathedral  (January  1,  1519)  was  in  conformity 
with  this  plan,  was  similar  in  substance  and  style  to  the  con- 
secration sermon  in  the  abbey,  and,  like  that  sermon,  gained 
him  both  friends  and  enemies. 

A  new  event  gave  a  powerful  impulse  to  the  Swiss  reforma- 
tion. A  Franciscan  monk,  Bernardine  Samson,  entered  the 
cantons  as  a  vender  of  indulgences.  At  Berne  he  had  great 
success ;  but,  at  a  small  town  near  Zurich,  he  was  opposed  by 
Bullinger,  the  parish  priest.  Samson  excommunicated  him; 
Zwingle  denounced  the  excommunication  ;  Samson  declared 
that  he  had  a  special  message  from  the  pope  to  the  Zurich  Diet. 
When  summoned  to  appear  and  deliver  it,  he  was  proven  an 
impostor,  and  banished  the  country.  His  discomfiture  enhanced 
the  reputation  of  Zwingle. 

In  1522,  some  persons  were  imprisoned  for  refusing  to  ob- 
serve Lent.  Zwingle  seized  the  occasion  to  publish  his  tract 
<«  On  the  Observation  of  Lent,"  in  which  he  ridiculed  its  ob- 
servance and  declared  it  an  institution  of  the  priests.  The 
Bishop  of  Landenburg  requested  the  council  of  Zurich  to  sup- 
press such  attacks.  They  declined  doing  so.  Zwingle  replied 
to  the  bishop,  censuring  in  severe  language  the  vices  of  the 
clergy  and  their  obstinacy  in  resisting  truth.  "  I  will  now  tell 
you,"  his  letter  says,  "  what  is  the  Christianity  that  I  profess, 
and  which  you  endeavour  to  render  suspected.  It  commands 
men  to  obey  the  laws  and  respect  the  magistrate ;  to  pay  tri- 
bute and  impositions  where  they  are  due  ;  to  rival  one  another 
only  in  beneficence  ;  to  support  and  relieve  the  indigent  ;  to 
share  the  griefs  of  their  neighbour,  and  to  regard  all  mankind 
as  brethren.  It  further  requires  the  Christian  to  expect  salva* 
tion  from  God  alone,  and  Jesus  Christ,  his  only  Son,  our  Ma. 


ULRIC    ZWINGLE.  17^ 

ter  and  Saviour,  who  giveth  eternal  life  to  them  who  believe  on 
him."  His  writings  and  his  preaching  drew  upon  him  the 
odium  of  being  a  Lutheran,  while  parties  were  so  divided  tha. 
violent  disputes  happened  among  friends  and  relatives,  in  as- 
semblies, in  the  street,  in  the  church  during  service.  Grieved 
at  this,  Zwingle  solicited  of  the  great  connci]  a  public  confer- 
ence, where,  in  presence  of  the  deputies  of  the  Bishop  of  Con- 
stance, he  might  explain  and  defend  his  doctrines.  If  proved 
in  error,  he  would  retract ;  if  triumphant,  he  asked  the  protec- 
tion of  government.  The  council  agreed,  and  January  29  was 
appointed  for  the  discussion.  Meanwhile,  the  reformer  pub- 
lished seventy-six  propositions  as  the  basis  of  the  discussion,  in 
which  the  axe  was  laid  at  the  root  of  papal  pretensions. 

At  the  day  appointed  the  assembly  met.  The  council,  the 
nobility,  the  clergy,  the  bishop's  deputies,  and  a  crowd  of  spec- 
tators, were  present.  When  the  meeting  had  been  opened  by 
the  burgomaster,  Zwingle  arose,  and  stated  that,  being  accused 
of  heresy,  he  was  prepared  to  defend  his  opinions  from  Scrip- 
ture. Nobody  attacked  him.  An  effort  was  made  to  postpone 
the  subject  until  December  ;  but  Zwingle,  setting  the  Bible  be- 
fore them,  called  on  any  present  to  make  good  the  charge  of 
heresy.  At  length  a  minister  rose  to  complain  that  he  had  been 
imprisoned  by  the  Bishop  of  Constance  for  denying  the  neces- 
sity of  worshipping  Mary  and  the  saints.  Faber,  a  creatui  e  of 
the  bishop,  replied  that,  having  visited  the  prisoner  and  quoted 
many  passages  of  Scripture  by  Avhich  the  worship  was  esta- 
blished, he  had  caused  him  to  retract.  Zwingle  immediately 
arose,  and,  after  stating  that  this  was  one  of  the  subjects  in  his 
propositions,  called  on  Faber  to  produce  the  texts  he  had  quoted 
to  the  prisoner.  Faber  concealed  his  irritation  by  a  torrent  of 
authorities  from  fathers,  councils,  monks,  and  miracle-mongers. 
Zwingle  demanded  the  text  which  authorized  image-worship. 
Faber  gave  a  thorough  history  of  miracles,  enlivened  by  addi- 
tional flourishes  from  the  fathers.  Zwingle  replied  that  fathers, 
councils,  and  popes  had  not  only  erred,  but  disagreed  among 
themselves,  while  Scripture  alone  was  infallible.  Faber  ex- 
claimed that  he  would  some  time  prove  the  propositions  of 
Zwingle  heretical.  "  Prove  it  now,"  cried  the  reformer.  Faber 
sat  down.  The  Lutherans  were  wild  with  joy,  and,  imme- 
diately on  adjourning  the  council,  published  a  decree,  "  That 


180  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHAISTIANS. 

Zwingle,  having  neither  been  convicted  of  heresy  nor  refuted, 
should  continue  to  preach  the  gospel  as  he  had  hitherto  done ; 
that  the  pastors  of  Zurich  and  its  territories  should  rest  their 
discourses  on  the  words  of  Scripture  alone,  and  that  both  par- 
ties should  abstain  from  all  personal  reflections."  This  affair 
gave  a  great  impetus  to  the  reformation.  The  people  began  to 
promote  the  work  in  their  own  way.  Crucifixes  were  pulled 
down,  images  demolished,  and  the  adherents  to  Rome  violently 
denounced.  Undecided  as  to  the  manner  of  treating  those 
who  participated,  the  council  called  a  second  assembly  to  ex- 
amine whether  the  worship  of  images  was  authorized  by  the 
gospel,  and  whether  the  ma-ss  ought  to  be  preserved  or  abolished. 
Nine  hundred  persons  obeyed  the  call,  (October  28,  1523,)  and 
the  discussion  lasted  three  days.  Zwingle  triumphed ;  the 
prisoners  were  released ;  image-worship  was  declared  unscrip- 
tural;  the  mass  to  be  no  sacrifice.  The  council  postponed,  for 
the  present,  their  opinion  respecting  a  change  in  the  forms  of 
worship.  The  change  was  effected,  without  disturbance,  in  the 
beginning  of  1524.  Meanwhile,  Zwingle  had  married,  and 
about  the  same  time  he  published  several  works,  among  which 
was  an  exhortation  to  the  Swiss  cantons  not  to  impede  the  re 
formation.  This  drew  upon  him  the  indignation  and  persecu- 
tion of  the  cantons  other  than  Zurich.  That  canton  steadily 
sustained  him.  In  1525,  the  adoration  of  the  host  and  the 
mass  were  abolished.  On  the  13th  of  April,  a  white  cloth  was 
spread  over  the  church-table,  and  bread  and  wine  placed  thereon. 
The  account  of  the  institution  of  the  supper  was  read.  Zwingle 
exhorted  his  congregation  to  examine  themselves,  and  the  peo- 
ple, for  the  first  time  in  Switzerland,  partook  of  the  Lord's 
supper  in  both  kinds.  Then  began  the  suppression  of  the  mo- 
nasteries. The  Dominican  and  the  Augustine  convents  were 
converted  into  hospitals  ;  their  revenues  were  appropriated  to 
the  sick ;  young  monks  were  put  to  trades ;  old  ones  supported 
by  government.  A  new  academy  was  founded  at  Zurich,  and 
Btrenuous  efforts  were  made  to  spread  the  gospel  through  Swit- 
zerland. 

About  this  time  Zwingle  used  his  eflbrts  to  counteract  the 
spread  of  the  Anabaptists,  who  had  become  numerous  in  the 
cantons.  The  Catholiot  now  endeavoured  to  secure  the  re- 
former's person  by  ordering  the  council  of  Zurich  to  send  him 


ULBXC   ZWINGLE.  181 

to  Baden,  under  pretence  of  having  a  dispute  with  Dr.  Eck. 
Zurich  refusing  to  give  him  up,  he  was  condemned,  his  books  pro- 
hibited, and  his  adherents  excommunicated.  The  injustice  of  this 
proceeding  opened  the  eyes  of  several  cantons  to  the  merits  of 
popery  more  than  the  preaching  of  Zwingle  had  done.  At  a  great 
convocation  held  at  Berne,  (1527,)  the  reformed  doctrines  were 
discussed  during  eighteen  sittings,  and  a  majority  of  the  clergy 
declared  for  the  reformation.  Afterwards,  their  jft'ospects 
were,  in  some  measure,  interrupted  by  Zwingle's  dispute  with 
Luther  concerning  the  Lord's  supper,  the  prospect  of  civil  war, 
and  the  persecution  waged  by  the  Romanists  against  the  sacra- 
mentarians,  as  the  followers  of  Zwingle  were  called.  The  re- 
former's life  was  so  embittered  by  these  events  that  he  resolved 
to  leave  Zurich  and  seek  an  asylum  elsewhere ;  but  the  entrea- 
ties of  both  friends  and  enemies  induced  him  to  remain. 

The  storm,  which  had  long  been  gathering  over  Zurich  and 
the  other  Protestant  cantons,  burst  at  last.  On  the  6th  of  Octo- 
ber, 1531,  the  Romish  cantons  took  the  field,  and  stationed 
their  forces  at  Cappel.  Zurich  hastily  mustered  a  handful  of 
men,  and  detached  them  against  the  enemy.  Zwingle  was 
ordered  to  join  them.  His  friends  trembled  for  his  safety. 
*'  Our  cause  is  good,"  said  the  reformer,  "  but  it  is  ill  defended. 
It  will  cost  me  my  life,  and  that  of  a  number  of  excellent  men 
who  would  wish  to  restore  religion  to  its  primitive  simplicity 
and  our  country  to  its  ancient  manners.  No  matter.  God  will 
not  abandon  his  servants  ;  he  will  come  to  their  assistance  when 
you  think  all  is  lost.  My  confidence  rests  upon  him  alone,  and 
not  upon  men.      I  submit  myself  to  his  will." 

At  Cappel  the  Protestants  were  attacked  with  fury,  and  de- 
fended themselves  with  bravery — overpowered  by  numbers  and 
totally  defeated.  In  the  confusion  of  flight,  Zwingle  was  thrice 
thrown  down,  but  recovered  himself.  A  stroke  under  the  chin 
proved  more  serious.  He  sank  on  his  knees,  and  then  on  the 
ground,  exclaiming,  "  Is  this  a  calamity  ?  They  are  able  to 
kill  the  body,  but  they  are  not  able  to  kill  the  soul."  After 
lying  insensible  for  some  time,  he  revived,  raised  himself,  and 
directed  his  eyes  upward.  Some  Catholic  soldiers  approached  ; 
among  them  a  confessor.  When  the  latter  offered  himself, 
Zwingle  shook  his  head.  He  was  asked  to  dedicate  his  soul  to 
the  Virgin,  but  refused.     One  of  the  soldiers  ran  him  through 

0 


l!R2  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

with  a  sword,  exclaiming,  "  Die,  obstinate  heretic."  Next  day 
his  body  was  found  by  some  Catholics,  and  exposed  to  view  of 
the  soldiers.  An  old  colleague  and  opponent  of  the  reformer 
gazed  at  it  with  emotion.  "Whatever  may  have  been  thy  faith," 
he  said,  '<  I  am  sure  that  thou  wast  always  sincere,  and  that 
thou  lovedst  thy  country.  May  God  take  thy  soul  to  his 
mercy."  The  soldiers  clamoured  for  the  burning  of  the  body. 
A  self-c(5nstituted  tribunal  acceded ;  the  remains  wtre  reduced 
to  ashes,  and  the  ashes  scattered  to  the  winds. 

Zwingle,  at  his  death,  was  forty- seven  years  old.  He  left  a 
number  of  useful  works  behind  him,  and  his  memory  was  re 
vered  a,3  that  of  a  spiritual  and  national  father. 


SIR  HENRY  VANE. 


183 


SIR  HENRY  VANE. 


ANE  was  a  man  whose  talents  would  adorn 
any  cause  and  any  age.     A  powerful  orator, 
a  profound  statesman,  a  courteous  gentleman, 
a  true  Christian,  and  the  untiring  champion 
of   civil  and  religious   toleration,  he  moved 
among  the  great  spirits  of  his  day  with  an 
effect  which,  while  nerving  the  heart  of  every 
friend  of  mankind,  struck  terror  into  the  ranks 
of  tyranny.     Yet,  like  Milton   and  Cromwell, 
his  memory  has  been  blackened  by  those  who, 
blinded  by  servility  and  corrupted  by  vice,  were 
unable  to  comprehend  the  principles  for  which  he 
contended  and  suffered ;  and  not  till  the  free  spirit 
of  our  own  day  had  established  a  standard  of  im- 
partial criticism  in  political  and  religious  matters,  was 
Vane  regarded,  by  the  readers  of  history,  in  any  other 
light  than  that  of  a  weak  enthusiast. 

Henry  Vane,  the  younger,  was  born  in  1612.  His  ancestors 
were  ennobled  both  by  deeds  and  extraction.  His  father,  called 
the  elder  Sir  Henry,  had  taken  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  events 
of  James's  reign,  and  was,  at  his  son's  birth,  the  king's  secretary 
of  state.  Being  placed  at  Westminster,  young  Vane  abandoned 
himself  for  a  time  to  the  frivolities  then  practised  by  the  youth 
of  that  college ;  but  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  according  to  his 
confession  on  the  scaffold,  ''  God  was  pleased  to  lay  the  founda- 
tion or  groundwork  of  repentance"  in  him,  '*  revealing  his 
Son  in  me,  for  the  bringing  me  home  to  himself,  by  his  won- 
derful rich  and  free  grace  ;  revealing  his  Son  in  m^,  that  by  the 
knowledge  of  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  he 
hath  sent,  I  might,  even  while  here  in  the  body,  be  made  par- 
taker of  eternal  life  in  the  first  fruits  of  it."     About  tb'^  same 


184  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

time  were  formed  his  opinions  on  civil  freedom ;  so  that  at  at 
age  in  which  the  mind  of  most  persons  is  but  unfolding  to  re- 
ceive knowledge,  Vane's  had  already  sketched  the  outlines  of 
character. 

When  sixteen  years  old,  Vane  became  a  gentleman  commoner 
of  Magdalen  College,  Oxford ;  but  he  terminated  his  member- 
ship at  the  university  by  refusing  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance 
and  supremacy.  Quitting  Oxford,  he  visited  the  continent,  and 
spent  some  time  at  Geneva.  From  that  city  of  free  inquiry  he 
returned  to  England,  more  confirmed  in  his  opinions  concerning 
religious  tolerance  and  political  freedom.  As  the  age  of  Bishop 
Laud  was  not  dull  in  perceiving  symptoms  of  that  nature,  an 
outcry  was  speedily  made  against  the  young  dissenter.  Laud 
expostulated  with  him  ;  courtiers  and  divines  frowned  upon  him ; 
his  father  commanded  him.  Henry,  though  modest,  was  firm ; 
but  unwilling  to  expose  his  father  to  the  resentment  of  a 
government  which  visited  the  sins  of  one  relative  on  another, 
he  determined  to  repair  to  America.  "  I  was  willing  (he  said 
afterwards,  in  a  dark  and  bitter  day)  to  turn  my  back  upon  my 
estate  ;  expose  myself  to  hazards  in  foreign  parts ;  yea,  nothing 
seemed  difficult  to  me,  so  I  might  preserve  faith  and  a  good 
conscience,  which  I  prefer  before  all  things ;  and  do  earnestly 
persuade  all  people  rather  to  sufi'er  the  highest  contradictions 
from  man,  than  disobey  God  by  contradicting  the  light  of  their 
own  conscience."  The  resolution  so  suddenly  taken,  to  abandon 
his  own  country,  astonished  and  irritated  his  father  ;  but  the 
king  induced  his  secretary  to  consent.  He  reached  Boston  in 
the  early  part  of  1635,  was  welcomed  with  enthusiasm  by  all 
classes  of  people,  and  on  the  third  of  March  admitted  to  the 
freedom  of  the  colony.  In  the  following  year  he  was  elected 
governor  of  Massachusetts.  We  have  elsewhere  noticed  the 
events  which  rendered  his  opponent,  Mr.  Winthrop,  temporarily 
unpopular ;  yet  to  Vane  the  administration  was  one  stormy, 
harassing  and  unsuccessful.  The  whole  colony  was  torn  into 
factions;  from  the  first  a  strong  party  opposed  Vane;  and  the 
suddenness  of  his  popularity,  together  with  his  youth,  exposed 
him  to  the  hatred  or  contempt  of  the  baser  kind.  Had  no 
other  obstacles  arisen,  those  were  sufficient  to  embarrass  his 
public  acts.  But  others  did  arise,  of  a  nature  well  calculated  to 
derange  not  only  politics,  but  society  itself.     The  principal  of 


SIR   HENRY  VANE.  185 

these  was  the  Hutchinson  controversy,  of  which  an  account  is 
given  in  another  part  of  this  volume.  The  part  taken  in  it  by 
Vane,  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel. 

The  announcement  of  Yane's  election  was  received  by  the 
people  with  enthusiasm.  At  this  time  there  were  in  the  port 
fifteen  large  vessels,  a  force  sufficient  to  disturb  the  watchful 
jealousy  of  our  New  England  fathers ;  nor  was  the  conduct  of 
the  crews,  when  on  shore,  calculated  to  overcome  prejudice  and 
gain  esteem.  No  expedient  could  be  contrived  to  get  rid  of 
them,  until  the  young  governor,  by  inviting  the  captains  to  a 
repast,  and  acquainting  them  in  a  friendly  manner  with  the 
wishes  of  the  people,  obtained  their  ready  assent  to  terms 
which  removed  all  cause  of  dispute.  Another  dispute  on  a 
matter  of  mere  form — the  raising  of  the  king's  flag  on  the 
fort — was  settled  on  the  personal  responsibility  of  the  governor, 
who  hung  out  the  flag ;  but  as  it  contained  a  cross  as  well  as 
the  national  ensigns,  the  Puritans  were  scandalized  and  a 
new  impulse  given  to  the  opposition  against  Vane.  But  the 
governor's  party  was  still  strong,  and  his  friends  enthusiastic ; 
BO  that  in  July,  when  he  made  a  friendly  tour  through  the 
towns  on  the  northern  and  eastern  part  of  the  bay,  he  was 
received  with  many  demonstrations  of  esteem  and  affection. 
His  return  to  Boston  is  marked  by  the  occurrence  of  the  Pequot 
war,  which  for  a  time  threatened  to  devastate  the  colony.  Had 
all  the  neighbouring  nations  joined  the  Pequots,  such  a  devas- 
tation might  have  happened  ;  that  they  did  not,  is  to  be  ascribed 
to  the  efforts  of  Vane  and  Roger  Williams.  Five  weeks  after 
Endicott's  expedition  to  Block  Island,  the  Narragansett  sachem 
came  to  Boston  on  the  invitation  of  the  governor,  attended  by 
twenty-two  chiefs.  Vane  received  them  not  as  savages,  but  as 
human  beings ;  they  dined  with  him,  and  in  the  afternoon  were 
indulged  in  a  long  and  friendly  conference.  It  will  not  be 
hard  to  surmise  the  effect  of  such  a  reception.  They  concluded 
an  amicable  treaty  with  the  governor,  and  on  their  return  were 
escorted  and  saluted  by  a  band  of  soldiers. 

In  the  summer  of  this  year.  Vane  received  letters  from  Eng- 
land, urging  him  to  return  to  that  country ;  but  he  could  not 
obtain  permission  from  the  council.  The  troubles  of  the  colony 
were  then  verging  toward  a  crisis;  Mrs.  Hutchinson,  having 
lately  arrived  from  England,  was  defending  her  opinions  with  a 
24  q2 


186  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

zeal  and  talent  which  demanded  all  the  efforts  of  her  opponents 
to  counteract ;  and  in  the  violence  of  the  conflict,  every  other 
interest  and  feeling  was  swept  away  or  absorbed.  Governor 
Vane  could  not  remain  indifferent  to  a  controversy  which  in- 
volved the  cause  of  religious  truth.  He  deplored  Mrs.  Hutchin- 
son's imprudence,  but  he  believed  her  to  be  sincerely  pious ;  he 
believed  that  she  was  labouring  for  religious  tolerance,  and 
believing  so,  he  espoused  her  cause.  The  act  drew  upon  him 
the  united  opposition  of  the  anti-Hutchinsonians.  As  the 
yearly  election  approached,  party  spirit  attained  a  height  such 
as  was  never  dreamed  of  before ;  and  on  the  day  of  voting,  the 
grave  and  austere  Puritan  could  with  difficulty  be  induced  to 
keep  his  hands  off  his  neighbour.  The  Reverend  Mr.  Wilson, 
one  of  the  pillars  of  orthodoxy,  after  climbing  a  tree,  harangued 
the  multitude  in  a  style  which  at  any  other  time  would  have 
secured  him  a  seat  in  the  pillory.  Vane  and  all  his  frienda 
were  signally  defeated.  Indignant  at  this  result,  the  people  of 
Eoston  instantly  elected  him  as  their  representative  at  the 
General  Court.  The  dominant  part  of  the  assembly  declared 
the  election  void ;  a  new  election  was  held  next  day ;  each 
party  strained  every  nerve,  and  exhausted  every  effort,  and 
Vane  was  again  returned  by  a  triumphant  majority. 

When  the  "most  extraordinary"  law,  forbidding  any  one  to 
harbour  an  emigrant,  was  passed,  Vane  wrote  in  opposition  to 
it ;  and  in  reply  to  Winthrop's  "  Defence  of  an  order  of  Court 
made  in  the  year  1637,"  in  his  "  Brief  Answer,"  Vane  contends 
that  no  government  can  be  well  founded,  unless  it  be  founded  in 
accordance  with  the  will  of  God ;  that  churches  have  no  liberty 
to  receive  or  reject  members  at  their  discretion,  but  at  the  dis- 
cretion of  Christ:  and  that  "heretics"  should  not  be  subject  to 
the  civil  power, — "  Ishmael  (he  says)  shall  dwell  in  the  presence 
of  his  brethren."  The  controversy  lasted  until  Vane's  return 
to  England,  in  August,  1637. 

On  arriving  in  his  native  country,  Vane  married,  and  retired 
for  some  time  to  the  seclusion  of  his  paternal  seat.  Through 
the  solicitations  of  his  friends,  he  was  again  brought  forward 
tc  public  life,  and  took  his  seat  in  parliament  as  representative 
of  Kingston  upon  Hull,  April  13,  1640.  So  great  was  the 
tJensation  produced  among  all  classes  by  his  appearance,  that 
Uf^twithstanding  his  known  opinions,  King  Charles  used  every 


SIR   HENRY  VANE.  18^ 

effort  to  win  him  to  his  cause.  The  crown  spoke  condescend- 
ingly to  him ;  the  office  of  navy  treasurer  was  given  him,  and 
he  received  the  honours  of  knighthood.  But  his  religion  and 
his  political  opinions  were  incorruptible.  The  dissolution  of 
parliament  found  him  what  he  had  been  at  its  assembling ;  and 
when  the  memorable  Long  Parliament  met,  he  was  confidently 
looked  upon  as  one  of  the  most  fearless  opponents  of  oppres- 
sion. When  the  privy  council  and  the  star-chamber  had  been 
swept  away.  Lord  Strafford  was  brought  to  trial  for  treason. 
The  history  of  Vane's  connection  with  that  trial  is  most  curious, 
but  no  more  than  a  sketch  of  the  principal  items  can  here  be 
given.  One  principle  of  the  privy  council — the  source  of  its 
power  and  of  its  fall — was  entire  secresy ;  and  this  was  secured 
by  the  solemn  oath  of  each  member.  When  the  Long  Parlia- 
ment met,  Mr.  Pym  arose  in  the  house  of  commons,  and  ac- 
cused Strafford  of  having  urged  the  king  to  measures  unconsti- 
tutional, despotic,  and  treasonous.  No  one  could  ascertain 
whence  he  had  obtained  his  information,  since  each  of  the 
council  denied  having  ever  broken  his  oath.  When  Sir  Henry 
Vane  the  elder,  himself  a  member  of  the  council,  was  called 
upon  for  testimony,  he  confirmed  Pym's  accusation.  As  that 
nobleman  was  the  mortal  enemy  of  Strafford,  it  was  believed 
by  many  that  he  had  betrayed  the  secret ;  but  this  Vane  indig- 
nantly denied.  The  trial  unravelled  the  mystery.  By  accident 
young  Vane  had  obtained  the  key  of  a  cabinet,  in  which  were 
the  proceedings  of  the  council;  ignorant  of  its  contents,  he 
unlocked  it.  A  paper  with  Strafford's  advice  to  the  king  was 
discovered.  Astounded  by  such  an  exhibition  of  political  wick- 
edness, he  invited  Pym  to  examine  the  paper ;  Pym  did  so ;  the 
paper  was  replaced  in  the  cabinet,  and,  without  the  knowledge 
of  the  elder  Vane,  a  foundation  was  laid  for  the  death  of  his 
rival,  and  eventually  the  overthrow  of  the  monarch. 

In  the  great  acts  of  this  parliament — the  triennial  bill,  the 
constitutional  settlement  of  taxation,  the  destruction  of  despotic 
courts,  the  abolition  of  the  king's  prerogative  of  dissolution — 
Vane  was  a  distinguished  participant.  When  the  civil  war 
commenced,  he  was  reappointed  treasurer  of  the  navy  by  par- 
liament, the  crown  having  deprived  him  of  that  office.  On 
again  resuming  his  duties,  he  devoted  almost  the  entire  emolu- 
ments of  the  treasury,  amounting  to  be^.ween  one  hundred  and 


188  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars,  to  the  public  service. 
When  the  power  of  the  king  was  in  the  ascendant,  and  th< 
cause  of  liberty  appeared  almost  lost,  an  embassy,  numbering 
four  persons,  was  sent  to  solicit  a  league  with  the  Scotch ;  of 
that  embassy  Vane  was  the  soul ;  it  was  entirely  successful^ 
and  to  its  success  is  owing,  perhaps  in  a  principal  degree,  the 
success  of  the  republicans.  On  the  26th  of  October,  Vane  re- 
turned to  England  with  the  '« solemn  league  and  covenant," 
political  and  religious,  between  the  Scotch  government  and  the 
parliament.  He  was  afterwards,  with  Cromwell,  the  principal 
supporter  of  the  self-denying  principle  and  the  new  model,  the 
acts  which  inspired  the  proceedings  of  parliament  with  a  vigour 
hitherto  unknown.  On  the  field  of  Naseby  the  army  of  the 
new  model,  led  by  Cromwell  and  Fairfax,  broke  the  power  of 
royalty,  and  secured  the  dominance  of  parliament. 

The  victory  renewed  the  old  dispute  between  the  Presby- 
terians and  the  Independents,  concerning  church  government. 
The  former  clamoured  against  all  toleration,  the  remainder  for 
it.  Vane  and  Cromwell  led  the  Independents,  and  their  num- 
bers daily  increased.  The  king,  with  his  customary  duplicity, 
pledged  himself  to  Vane  that  he  would  join  that  party,  and 
assist  in  "rooting  out  intolerance;"  while  at  the  same  time  he 
was  corresponding  with  some  of  his  creatures  concerning  his 
proposed  treatment  of  the  rebels.  Vane  returned  no  answer. 
During  the  stormy  scenes  which  followed,  he  acted  with  his 
customary  wisdom  and  influence ;  but  when  the  soldiery,  in 
order  to  obtain  a  majority  favourable  to  the  king's  execution, 
^'purged  the  house"  of  the  Presbyterians,  Vane  resented  the 
act  as  gross  injustice,  and  retired  to  private  life.  In  1649, 
after  the  king's  death,  he  resumed  his  seat,  and  was  made 
chairman  of  a  committee  of  three,  to  whom  were  intrusted  the 
afi"airs  of  the  admiralty  and  the  navy.  It  was  under  him  that 
the  English  navy  began  the  continued  series  of  victories  which 
has  since  rendered  her  a  first-rate  naval  power.  He  opposed, 
with  his  whole  energy,  the  encroachments  of  Cromwell  upon  the 
parliament ;  and  on  that  day  when  the  protector  dissolved  the 
Long  Parliament,  he  was  conspicuous  in  his  opposition  to  the 
measure. 

On  again  retiring  to  private  life.  Vane  watched  with  patriotic 
eye;    and    the    publication    by   Cromwell   of   a   day  of   fast. 


SIR   HENKY   VANE.  189 

(March  14,  1656,)  for  the  purpose  of  «« applying  themselves  to 
the  Lord,  to  discover  the  Achan  who  had  so  long  obstructed  the 
settlement  of  these  distracted  kingdoms,"  afforded  him  another 
opportunity  of  speaking  for  the  republic.  In  his  "  Healing  Ques- 
tion," he  showed  in  the  most  satisfactory  manner,  that  the  Achan 
was  Cromwell  himself.  For  this,  Vane  was  abruptly  summoned 
before  the  council,  and,  after  a  tedious  trial,  or  rather  mockery 
of  trial,  was  committed  to  Carisbrook  Castle,  in  the  Isle  of 
Wight.  He  was  released  in  December  ;  and  from  that  time 
until  Cromwell's  death,  in  1658,  he  wrote  several  treatises  on 
government.  On  the  accession  of  Richard  Cromwell,  he  was 
re-elected  to  parliament.  The  managers  of  elections  gave  his 
certificate  to  another  ;  again  he  was  returned  from  Bristol,  and 
again  rejected  ;  a  third  election  disappointed  his  enemies,  and 
on  the  27th  of  January,  1659,  he  resumed  his  seat.  He  was 
the  uncompromising  opponent  of  Richard's  government ;  and 
when  the  Restoration  occurred,  though  aware  that  his  hopes  of 
political  and  religious  liberty  were  disappointed,  he  came  up  to 
his  house  in  Hampstead,  near  London.  Besides  feeling  uncon- 
scious "  of  having  done  any  thing  in  relation  to  public  affairs,  for 
which  he  could  not  willingly  and  cheerfully  suffer,"  he  had  received 
from  Charles  the  promise  of  a  merciful  indemnity.  The  promise 
was  redeemed,  by  assigning  Vane  to  the  Tower.  Both  houses, 
however,  petitioned  the  king  to  spare  his  life  ;  and  Charles  pro- 
mised, that  if  Vane  were  attainted,  the  execution  might  be  re- 
mitted. During  more  than  two  years,  he  was  removed  from 
prison  to  prison,  and  at  length  consigned  to  a  solitary  castle  on 
the  island  of  Scilly.  He  continued  to  write,  in  the  spirit  of  a 
Christian  philosopher,  various  treatises,  on  government,  reli- 
gion, life,  death,  friends,  &c. ;  while,  in  the  mean  time,  the  king 
was  using  every  effort  to  secure  a  majority  in  parliament  that 
would  consent  to  his  death.  In  a  letter  to  his  wife,  he  says — • 
"It  is  no  small  satisfaction  to  me  in  these  sharp  trials,  to  expe- 
rience the  truth  of  those  Christian  principles,  which  God  of  his 
grace  hath  afforded  you  and  me  the  knowledge  and  emboldened 
us  to  make  the  profession  of.  Have  faith  and  hope,  my  dearest ; 
God's  arm  is  not  shortened ;  doubtless,  great  and  precious  pro- 
mises are  yet  in  store  to  be  accomplished,  in  and  upon  believers 
here  on  earth,  to  the  making  of  Christ  admired  in  them.  And 
if  we  cannot  live  in  the  power   and  actual   possession  of  them, 


190  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

yet  if  wo  die  in  the  certain  foresight  and  embracing  of  them 
by  faith,  it  will  be  our  great  blessing.  This  dark  night  and 
black  shade  which  God  hath  drawn  over  his  work  in  the  midst 
of  us,  may  be,  for  aught  we  know,  the  ground  colour  to  some 
beautiful  piece  that  he  is  now  exposing  to  the  light." 

Soon  after  the  writing  of  the  letter  from  which  this  is  ex- 
tracted, Vane  was  remanded  to  the  Tower.  On  the  2d  of  June, 
he  was  brought  to  trial  as  a  false  traitor,  &c.  The  indictment 
charged  him  with  compassing  and  imagining  the  death  of 
Charles  I.,  of  conspiring  to  subvert  the  ancient  government  of 
the  realm,  of  associating  with  traitors,  and  like  offences.  He 
was  refused  counsel,  and  asked  to  plead  guilty  or  not  guilty. 
He  denied  any  obligation  to  plead  on  the  indictment,  and  in  a 
speech  of  consummate  ability,  demanded,  as  a  member  of  par- 
liament, a  trial  before  his  equals,  and  the  benefit  of  counsel. 
He  was  assured  that  counsel  would  be  granted  him,  if  he  con- 
sented to  plead  to  the  indictment.  After  long  hesitancy,  he 
consented,  pleading  not  guilty.  He  was  remanded  to  prison, 
where  he  remained  four  days.  When  the  day  of  trial  came, 
his  demand  to  the  judges  for  counsel  was  answered  by  the  as- 
sertion, that  they  would  be  his  counsel.  The  ensuing  trial,  whe- 
ther we  consider  the  shameless  injustice  of  the  court,  the  de- 
fence of  Vane,  or  the  impression  produced  upon  the  people,  is 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  in  English  annals.  The  jury,  after 
a  secret  consultation  with  Vane's  bitter  opponent,  the  solicitor- 
general,  returned  a  verdict  of  guilty. 

On  returning  to  his  cell.  Vane  was  visited  by  some  friends. 
They  found  him  cheerful,  although  during  the  ten  hours  he  had 
passed  in  court  he  had  not  tasted  any  refreshment,  and  was 
most  of  the  time  engaged  in  intricate  argument.  After  stating 
to  them  that  he  had  anticipated  all  which  had  occurred,  Vane 
blessed  God  that  "  he  had  been  strengthened  to  maintain  him- 
self at  the  post  which  Providence  had  assigned  him  ;  that  ar- 
guments had  been  suggested  to  his  mind ;  that  he  had  not  been 
left  to  overlook  any  means  of  defence ;  that  his  lips  had  been 
clothed  with  more  than  their  usual  eloquence ;  and  that  by  His 
gracious  help,  he  had  been  enabled  to  discharge,  to  his  own 
entire  satisfaction,  the  duty  he  owed  to  his  country,  and  to  the 
liberty  of  his  countrymen.  He  had  spoken  that  day,  as  he 
told  his  judges,  not  for  his  own   sake  only,  but  for  theirs,  and 


SIR   HENRY  VANE.  191 

for  posterity.     He  had  done  his  best,  and  his  utmost  for  him 
self,  and  for  his  fellow-men ;  his  conscience  was  discharged,  his 
obligations  to  society  were  fulfilled,  and  his  mind  was  therefore 
at  peace  with  itself,  at  peace  with  the  world,  and  full  of  satis 
faction,  comfort,  and  joy." 

Charles  had  now  an  opportunity  to  redeem  his  promise.  He 
did  so,  by  writing  a  letter  to  Clarendon,  in  which  he  describes 
Vane  as  a  man  "  too  dangerous  to  let  live,  if  we  can  honestly 
put  him  out  of  the  way."  Clarendon  understood  him  ;  and  on 
the  11th  of  June,  Vane  was  brought  forward  to  receive  sen- 
tence. He  stated  in  a  forcible  manner  many  reasons  for  an 
arrest  of  judgment,  but  these  were  overlooked,  and  he  was  sen- 
tenced to  die  on  the  scaffold.  During  the  short  space  of  three 
days,  he  prayed  with  and  exhorted  his  wife  and  children,  who 
were  permitted  to  remain  with  him.  On  the  fatal  morning,  he 
kissed  his  children,  and  said,  <•<■  The  Lord  bless  you — he  will  be 
a  better  father  to  yoa — I  must  now  forget  that  ever  I  knew 
you.  *  *  *  Be  not  you  troubled,  for  I  am  going  home  to  my 
father."  In  his  prayer,  occurred  words  almost  prophetic.  "  I 
die  in  the  certain  faith  and  foresight  that  this  cause  shall  have 
its  resurrection  in  my  death.  My  blood  will  be  the  seed  sown, 
by  which  this  glorious  cause  will  spring  up,  which  God  will 
speedily  raise.  *  *  *  As  for  that  glorious  cause  which  God 
hath  owned  in  these  nations,  and  will  own,  in  which  so  many 
righteous  souls  have  lost  their  lives,  and  so  many  have  been  en- 
gaged by  my  council  and  encouragement,  shall  I  now  give  it  up, 
and  so  declare  them  all  rebels  and  murderers  ?  No  ;  I  will 
never  do  it.  That  precious  blood  shall  never  lie  at  my  door» 
As  a  testimony  and  seal  to  the  justness  of  that  quarrel,  I  leave 
now  my  life  upon  it,  as  a  legacy  to  all  the  honest  interest  in 
these  three  nations.  Ten  thousand  deaths  rather  than  defile  my 
conscience,  the  chastity  and  purity  of  which  I  value  beyond 
all  this  world.  I  would  not  for  ten  thousand  lives  part  with 
this  peace  and  satisfaction  I  have  in  my  own  heart,  both  in 
holding  to  the  purity  of  my  principles,  and  to  the  righteousness 
of  this  good  cause,  and  to  the  assurance  I  have  that  God  is 
now  fulfilling  all  these  great  and  precious  promises,  in  order  to 
what  he  is  bringing  forth.  Although  I  see  it  not,  yet  I  die  in 
the  faith  and  assured  expectation  of  it." 

He  was  drawn  to  the  scaffold  on  a  sled,  and  everywhere  hailed 


192  LIVES    OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

with  demonstrations  of  sympathy  by  the  people.  After  mount 
ing  the  scaffold,  he  attempted  to  address  the  crowds,  but  was 
interrupted  by  noise  of  trumpets,  the  paper  snatched  from  his 
hands,  and  even  his  pockets  were  searched  for  papers.  "  As 
might  have  been  expected,  (says  Upham  in  the  American  Bio- 
graphy,) and  a;S  the  government  had  most  seriously  appre- 
hended, a  great  impression  had  by  this  time  been  made  by  the 
prisoner  upon  the  vast  multitude  that  surrounded  him.  The 
people  remembered  his  career  of  inflexible  virtue  and  patriot- 
ism. They  had  been  roused  to  indignation  by  the  treatment 
he  had  received  at  the  hands  of  Cromwell,  and  of  the  restored 
monarch.  His  trial  had  revived  the  memory  of  his  services 
and  sufferings.  The  fame  of  his  glorious  defence  had  rung  far 
and  wide  through  the  city  and  nation.  The  enthusiasm  by 
which  he  had  been  welcomed  by  weeping  and  admiring  thou- 
sands, as  he  passed  from  prison  to  Tower  Hill ;  the  sight  of  that 
noble  countenance ;  the  serene,  and  calm,  and  almost  divine 
composure  of  his  deportment ;  his  visible  triumph  over  the  fear 
of  death,  and  the  malice  of  his  enemies — all  these  influences, 
brought  at  once  to  bear  upon  their  minds,  and  concentrated  and 
heightened  by  the  powers  of  an  eloquence  that  was  the  wonder 
of  his  contemporaries,  had  produced  an  effect  which  it  was  evi- 
dent could  not,  with  safety  to  the  government,  be  permitted  to 
be  wrought  any  higher."  Finding  that  he  could  not  be  heard, 
Vane  remarked,  "  It  is  a  bad  cause  which  cannot  bear  the 
words  of  a  dying  man,"  and  kneeled  down  to  pray.  "  I  bless 
the  Lord,  (were  his  words,)  who  hath  accounted  me  worthy  to 
suffer  for  his  name.  Blessed  be  the  Lord,  that  I  have  kept  a 
conscience  void  of  offence  to  this  day.  I  bless  the  Lord,  I  have 
not  deserted  the  righteous  cause  for  which  I  suffer."  "  Father, 
(he  said  at  the  block,)  glorify  thy  servant  in  the  sight  of  men, 
that  he  may  glorify  thee  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty  to  thee, 
and  to  his  country."  With  one  stroke,  the  head  was  severed 
from  the  body.  His  death,  considered  merely  as  an  act  of 
policy,  was  the  greatest  blunder  that  the  king  could  have  com- 
mitted ;  and  it  gave  the  Stuart  dynasty  a  shock  from  which  it 
never  recovered. 


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JOHN   KNOX. 


193 


JOHN  KNOX. 


NOX,  the  son  of  obscure  parents,  was  born 
in  1505 ;  there  is  some  doubt  respecting  his 
birthplace,  which  was  probably  the  village  of 
GrifFord,  in  East  Lothian,  although  it  has  been 
asserted  that  he  was  born  at  Haddington. 
His  education  was  more  liberal  than  was  then 
common.  In  his  youth,  he  was  put  to  the 
grammar  school  at  Haddington,  and  about  1524, 
removed  to  the  University  of  St.  Andrew's, 
where  the  learning  principally  taught  was  the  phi- 
losophy of  Aristotle,  scholastic  theology,  civil  and 
canon  law,  and  the  Latin  language ;  Greek  and 
Hebrew  were  at  that  time  little  understood  in  Scot- 
land, and  Knox  did  not  acquire  the  knowledge  of  them 
until  somewhat  later  in  his  life.  "  After  he  was  cre^ 
ated  master  of  arts,  he  taught  philosophy,  most  proba- 
bly as  an  assistant  or  private  lecturer  in  the  university,  and  his 
class  became  celebrated."  "  He  was  ordained  a  priest  before 
he  reached  the  age  fixed  by  the  canons  of  the  church,  which 
must  have  taken  place  previous  to  the  year  1530,  at  which  time 
he  had  attained  his  twenty-fifth  year,  the  canonical  age  for 
receiving  ordination."*  His  first  instruction  in  theology  was 
received  from  John  Major,  the  professor  of  theology  in  the  uni- 
versity, but  the  opinions  founded  upon  it  were  not  long  retained; 
the  writings  of  Jerome  and  Augustin  attracted  his  attention, 
and  the  examination  of  them  led  to  a  complete  revolution  in  his 
sentiments.  It  was  about  the  year  1535  that  his  secession  from 
Roman  Catholic  doctrines  and  discipline  commenced,  but  he 
did  not  declare  himself  a  Protestant  until  1542. 

The  reformed  doctrines  had  made  considerable  progress  in 


25 


*  M'Crie's  Life,  vol.  i. 
R 


12. 


1 94  I^IVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

Scotland  before  tins  time.  Knox  was  not  the  first  reformer, 
there  were  many  persons,  "  earls,  barons,  gentlemen,  honest 
burgesses,  and  craftsmen,"  who  already  professed  the  new  creed, 
though  they  durst  not  avow  it ;  it  was  to  the  avowal,  extension, 
and  establishment  of  the  reformed  religion  that  his  zeal  and 
knowledge  so  powerfully  contributed.  His  reprehension  of  the 
prevalent  corruptions  made  him  regarded  as  a  heretic ;  for 
which  reason  he  could  not  safely  remain  in  St.  Andrew's,  which 
was  wholly  in  the  power  of  Cardinal  Beaton,  a  determined  sup- 
porte'r  of  the  church  of  Rome,  and  he  retired  to  the  south  of 
Scotland,  where  he  avowed  his  apostasy.  He  w^as  condemned 
as  a  heretic,  degraded  from  the  priesthood,  and  it  is  said  by 
Beza  that  Beaton  employed  assassins  to  waylay  him.  He  now 
for  a  time  frequented  the  preaching  of  the  reformed  teachers, 
Williams  and  Wishart,  who  gave  additional  strength  to  opinions 
already  pretty  firmly  rooted ;  and  having  relinquished  all 
thouo;hts  of  officiatinoj  in  the  Roman  Catholic  church,  he  became 
tutor  to  the  sons  of  Hugh  Douglas,  of  Langniddrie,  a  gentle- 
man of  East  Lothian,  who  had  embraced  the  reformed  doctrines. 
After  the  murder  of  Cardinal  Beaton,  Knox  removed  with  his 
pupils  from  Langniddrie  to  St.  Andrew's,  (1547,)  where  he  con- 
ducted their  education  in  his  accustomed  manner,  catechising 
and  reading  to  them  in  the  church  belonging  to  the  city.  There 
were  many  hearers  of  these  instructions,  who  urged  him,  and 
finally  called  upon  him  to  become  a  public  preacher.  Diffident 
and  reluctant  at  first,  upon  consideration  he  consented  to  their 
request.  In  his  preaching,  far  more  than  the  reformed  teach- 
ers who  had  preceded  him,  he  struck  at  the  very  foundations 
of  popery,  and  challenged  his  opponents  to  argument,  to  be 
delivered  either  in  writing  or  from  the  pulpit,  and  so  successful 
were  his  labours,  that  many  of  the  inhabitants  were  converted 
to  his  doctrines. 

It  was  not  long  before  an  event  took  place,  by  which  his 
efforts  received  a  temporary  check.  The  murder  of  Cardinal 
Beaton  had  given  great  offence,  and  created  great  excitement 
through  the  kingdom.  It  was  a  severe  blow  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  religion  and  the  French  interest  in  Scotland,  both  of 
which  he  had  zealously  supported,  and  vengeance  was  loudly 
called  for  upon  the  conspirators  by  whom  he  had  been  murdered. 
These  conspirat'jrs  had  fortified  St.  Andrew's,  and  the  art  of 


JOHN   KNOX.  195 

attacking  fortified  places  was  then  so  imperfectly  understood 
in  Scotland,  that  for  five  months  they  resisted  the  efforts  of 
Arran,  the  regent.  From  their  long  wars  in  Italy  and  Ger- 
many, the  French  had  become  as  experienced  in  the  conduct  of 
sieges  as  the  Scotch  were  ignorant.  The  French  were  allies  of 
Scotland ;  to  France,  therefore,  Arran  sent  for  assistance. 
About  the  end  of  June,  1547,  a  French  fleet,  with  a  consider- 
able body  of  land  forces,  appeared  before  the  town.*  The  gar- 
rison capitulated,  and  Knox,  among  many  others,  was  taken 
prisoner,  and  conveyed  to  Rouen,  where  he  was  confined  on 
board  the  galleys.  After  nineteen  months'  close  imprisonment, 
he  was  liberated,  with  his  health  greatly  injured  by  the  rigour 
with  which  he  had  been  treated,  (1549.)  Knox  now  repaired 
to  England,  and  though  he  had  never  received  ordination  as  a 
Protestant,  Cranmer  did  not  hesitate  to  send  him  from  London 
to  preach  in  Berwick.  In  Berwick  and  the  north  of  England 
he  followed  his  arduous  undertaking  of  conversion  until  1551, 
when  he  was  made  one  of  King  Edward's  chaplains,  with  a 
salary  of  4-01  a  year.  While  his  friends  in  the  English  adminis- 
tration offered  him  further  preferment,  which  he  declined,  his 
enemies  brought  charges  against  him  before  the  council,  of 
which  he  was  soon  afterwards  acquitted.  He  was  in  London 
at  the  time  of  Edward's  death,  but  thought  it  prudent  to  fly  the 
kingdom  as  soon  as  Mary's  policy  towards  the  Protestants  be- 
came apparent.  In  January,  1554,  he  landed  at  Dieppe;  from 
Dieppe  he  went  to  Geneva ;  and  from  Geneva  to  Frankfort, 
where  Calvin  requested  him  to  take  charge  of  a  congregation 
of  English  refugees.  In  consequence  of  some  disputes,  he 
returned  from  Frankfort  to  Geneva,  and,  after  a  few  months* 
residence  there,  to  Scotland,  where  he  again  zealously  promul- 
gated his  doctrines.  The  English  congregation  at  Geneva 
having  appointed  him  their  preacher,  he  thought  right  to 
make  another  journey  to  the  continent,  (1556,)  which  he  quit- 
ted finally  in  1559.  During  these,  the  quietest  years  of  his 
life,  he  published  "  The  First  Blast  of  the  Trumpet  against  the 
Monstrous  Regiment  of  Women,"  in  which  he  vehemently 
attacked  the  admission  of  females  to  the  government  of  nations. 
Its  first  sentence    runs  thus :  "  To  promote  a  woman  to  bear 


*  Robertson  vol.  i.  314. 


^96  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

rule,  superiority,  dominion,  or  empire  above  any  realm,  nation^ 
or  city,  is  repugnant  to  nature,  contumely  to  God,  a  thing  most 
contrarious  to  his  revealed  will  and  approved  ordinance,  and 
finally  it  is  the  subversion  of  all  equity  and  justice."  This 
inflammatory  composition,  as  might  have  been  expected,  excited 
fresh  hostility  against  its  author.  At  the  time  of  its  publica- 
tion, both  England  and  Scotland  were  governed  by  females  ; 
Mary  of  Guise,  the  queen-dowager  of  Scotland,  was  likewise 
regent  of  that  kingdom,  while  the  Princess  Mary  was  heiress 
of  its  throne  :  and  in  England  Mary  was  queen,  and  her  sister 
Elizabeth  the  next  in  succession  to  the  crown.  It  hardly  ad- 
mits of  wonder  then  that  when,  in  1559,  Knox  was  desirous  of 
returning  to  England,  Queen  Elizabeth's  ministers  would  not 
permit  him  to  do  so,  and  he  was  compelled  to  land  at  Leith. 

The  Protestants  in  Scotland  Avere  by  this  time  nearl;y  equal 
to  the  Roman  Catholics,  both  in  power  and  in  number ;  but 
their  condition  had  lately  been  changed  somewhat  for  the  worse. 
The  queen-regent,  who,  from  motives  of  policy,  had  found  it 
desirable  to  conciliate  and  uphold  them,  from  similar  motives 
had  become  their  opponent  and  oppressor  ;  and  many  of  the 
preachers  of  the  ''  Congregation"  (the  name  by  w^hich  the  body 
of  Protestants  was  then  called)  were  summoned  for  various 
causes  to  take  their  trial.  It  was  on  a  day  not  long  previous 
to  these  trials  that  Knox  returned  to  his  country  to  resume  the 
labours  of  his  ministry.  Hearing  of  the  condition  of  his  asso- 
ciates, <'he  hurried  instantly,"  says  Robertson,  i.  375,  "to  Perth, 
to  share  with  his  brethren  in  the  common  danger,  or  to  assist 
them  in  the  common  cause.  While  their  minds  were  in  that 
ferment,  which  the  queen's  perfidiousness  (she  had  broken  a 
promise  to  stop  the  trial)  and  their  own  danger  occasioned,  he 
mounted  the  pulpit,  and,  by  a  vehement  harangue  against  idola- 
try, inflamed  the  multitude  with  the  utmost  rage.'*  The  indis- 
cietion  of  a  priest,  who,  immediately  after  Knox's  sermon,  was 
preparing  to  celebrate  mass,  caused  a  violent  tumult.  The 
churches  in  the  city  were  broken  open,  altars  were  overturned, 
pictures  defaced,  images  destroyed,  and  the  monasteries  levelled 
with  the  ground.  The  insurrection,  which  was  not  the  efi'ect 
of  any  concert  or  previous  deliberation,  was  censured  by  the 
reformed  preachers ;  and  it  affixes  no  blame  to  the  character  of 
Knox.     The  queen-regent  sent  troops  to  quell  this  rebellion  j 


JOHN  KNOX  197 

troops  were  also  raised  by  the  Protestants,  but  a  treaty  was 
entered  into  before  any  blood  was  shed. 

The  promotion  of  the  Reformation  in  his  own  country  was 
now  Knox's  sole  object ;  he  was  reinstated  in  his  pulpit  at 
St.  Andrew's,  and  preached  there  in  his  usual  rough,  vehement, 
zealous,  and  powerful  manner,  until  the  lords  of  the  Congrega- 
tion took  possession  of  Edinburgh,  where  he  was  immediately 
chosen  minister.  His  efforts  gave  great  offence  and  alarm  to 
the  Roman  Catholic  clergy,  especially  during  a  circuit  that  he 
made  of  Scotland.  Armies  were  maintained  and  sent  into  the 
field  by  both  parties,  for  treaties  were  no  sooner  made  than  they 
were  violated;  French  troops  again  came  to  succour  the  Roman 
Catholic  clergy ;  and  to  oppose  them,  Knox  entered  into  cor- 
respondence with  Cecil,  and  obtained  for  his  party  the  assist- 
ance of  some  forces  from  England.  The  "Congregation,"  how- 
ever, had  many  difficulties  and  disasters  to  struggle  with.  A 
messenger,  whom  they  had  sent  to  receive  a  remittance  of  mo- 
ney from  the  English,  was  intercepted  and  rifled ;  their  soldiers 
mutinied  for  want  of  pay,  their  numbers  decreased,  and  their 
arms  were  unsuccessful.  Under  these  circumstances,  it  required 
all  the  zeal  and  the  courage  of  Knox  to  sustain  the  animation 
of  his  dispirited  colleagues ;  his  addresses  from  the  pulpit  were 
continual  and  persevering.  As  the  treaty  by  which  the  civil 
war  was  concluded  made  no  settlement  in  religion,  the  reformers 
found  no  fresh  obstacle  to  the  continuance  of  their  eftbrts  ;  and 
Knox  resumed  his  office  of  minister  in  Edinburgh.  In  this  year, 
(1560,)  the  queen-regent  died,  and  in  the  following,  Queen  Mary 
took  possession  of  the  throne  of  Scotland ;  her  religious  opinions 
were  Roman  Catholic,  but  she  employed  Protestant  counsellors. 
The  preaching  of  Knox  and  his  denunciations  of  her  religious 
practice  attracted  her  attention.  At  different  times,  he  had 
interviews  with  her,  (which  at  first  gave  rise  to  much  specula- 
tion,) but  neither  her  artifices  produced  much  effect,  nor  his 
arguments ;  so  stern  was  he,  and  so  rough  in  his  rebukes,  that 
he  once  drove  her  into  tears.  At  her  instigation,  Knox  was 
accused  of  treason,  and  was  tried,  but  the  whole  convention  of 
counsellors,  excepting  the  immediate  dependants  of  the  court, 
pronounced  that  he  had  not  been  guilty  of  any  breach  of  the 
laws,  (1563.) 

Knox  '■•ontinued   his   exertions   with  difficulties   of  different 

b2 


198  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

kin  is  constantly  besetting  him.  At  one  time  he  was  prohibited 
from  preaching,  at  another  he  was  refused  entrance  into  Edin- 
burgh after  a  temporary  absence ;  but,  on  the  whole,  his  influ- 
ence was  little  impaired,  and  his  opposition  to  popery  successful. 
His  health,  however,  was  affected  by  continual  exertion :  in 
1570,  he  was  struck  with  apoplexy,  from  which  he  so  far  reco- 
vered as  to  renew  his  labours  for  more  than  a  year;  but  in  1572 
his  exhausted  constitution  gave  way,  and  he  died  on  the  24th 
of  November.  He  was  buried  in  Edinburgh,  in  the  church  then 
called  St.  Giles's,  now  the  Old  Church. 

Knox  was  twice  married;  first,  in  1553,  to  Marjory,  daughter 
of  Sir  Robert  Bowes ;  afterwards,  in  1564,  to  Margaret  Stew- 
art, daughter  of  Lord  Ochiltree  ;  he  had  sons  only  by  his  first 
marriage ;  they  all  died  without  issue.  He  had  three  daughters 
by  his  second  wife ;  the  youngest,  Mrs.  Welch,  appears  to  have 
been  a  remarkable  person. 

The  doctrines  of  Knox  were  those  of  the  English  reformers, 
impregnated  to  a  certain  extent  with  Calvinism.  His  opinions 
respecting  the  sacraments  coincided  with  those  of  the  English 
Protestants :  he  preached  that  all  sacrifices  which  men  ofi"ered 
for  sin  were  blasphemous ;  that  it  was  incumbent  to  make  an 
open  profession  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  and  to  avoid  idolatry, 
superstition,  and  every  way  of  worship  unauthorized  by  the 
Scriptures;  he  was  altogether  opposed  to  episcopacy.  His 
views  were  more  austere  than  those  promulgated  in  England ; 
and  it  would  be  curious  to  trace  in  what  degree  the  present 
greater  severity  of  the  Scotch  Presbyterians,  compared  with 
that  of  the  English  Protestants,  is  attributable  to  this  reformer. 

The  opposition  of  Knox,  as  well  to  episcopacy  as  to  papacy, 
has  caused  his  reputation  to  be  severely  dealt  with  by  many 
"writers  of  contrary  opinions  on  these  points.  A  most  elaborate 
character  of  him  has  been  drawn  at  some  length  by  Dr.  M'Crie, 
and,  though  it  may  perhaps  be  well  to  inform  the  reader  that 
Dr.  M'Crie  was  a  rigid  Presbyterian,  we  think  it  on  the  whole 
a  just  representation.  We  subjoin  a  brief  summary  of  it:  Knox 
possessed  strong  talents ;  was  inquisitive,  ardent,  acute,  vigor- 
ous, and  bold  in  his  conceptions.  He  was  a  stranger  to  none 
of  the  branches  of  learning  cultivated  in  that  age  by  persons  of 
his  profession,  and  he  felt  an  irresistible  desire  to  impart  his 
knowledge  to  others.     Intrepidity,  independence,  and  elevation 


JOHN   KNOX.  199 

of  mind,  indefatigable  activity,  and  constancy  which  no  disap- 
pointments could  shake,  eminently  qualified  him  for  the  post 
which  he  occupied.  In  private  life  he  was  loved  and  revered 
by  his  friends  and  domestics :  when  free  from  depression  of 
spirits,  the  result  of  ill  health,  he  was  accustomed  to  unbend 
his  mind,  and  was  often  witty  and  humorous.  Most  of  his  faults 
may  be  traced  to  his  natural  temperament,  and  the  character 
of  the  age  and  country  in  which  he  lived.  His  passions  were 
strong,  and  as  he  felt  he  expressed  himself,  without  reserve  or 
disguise.  His  zeal  made  him  intemperate :  he  was  obstinate, 
austere,  stern,  and  vehement.  These  defects,  which  would  have 
been  inexcusable  in  most  other  persons,  may  be  more  easily  for- 
given in  him,  for  they  were  among  the  most  successful  weapons 
in  his  warfare. 


20C 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JACOB   BOHME. 


PPER  LUSATIA  contained  a  small  market 

town  called  Alt-Seidenberg,  (Brucker  writes 
Palseo-Seidenburgum,)  distant  from  Gorlitz 
about  a  mile  and  a  half,  in  which  lived  a 
man  whose  name  was  Jacob,  and  his  wife's 
name    was    Ursula.     They    were    poor,    but 
sober  and  honest.     In  the   year  1575  they 
had   a    son,   Avhom    they  named  Jacob.     This 
was    that    Jacob    Bohme    who    was    afterwards 
called  the  Teutonic  philosopher.     His  first  em- 
ployment was  the  care  of  cattle,  but  when  grown 
older  he  was  placed  at  a  school,  where  he  learned  to 
ead  and  to  write,  and  was  afterwards  apprenticed  to 
^^      ^  shoemaker  in  Gorlitz.     Having  served  his  time,  in 
tj^\^    the  year  1594  he  took  to  wife  Catharine,  the  daughter 
of  the  butcher  Johann  Hunschmann,  a  citizen  of  Gorlitz, 
by  whom  he  had  four  sons.     His  sons  he  placed  to  honest  trades. 
He  himself  became  master-shoemaker  in  1595. 

Jacob  Bohme  relates  that  when  a  herdsboy  he  had  a  re- 
markable trial.  In  the  heat  of  mid-day,  retiring  from  his 
play-fellows  he  went  to  a  stony  crag  called  the  Landskron,  and, 
finding  an  entrance  or  aperture  overgrown  with  bushes,  he  went 
in,  and  saw  there  a  large  wooden  vessel  full  of  money,  at  which 
sight,  being  in  a  sudden  astonishment,  he  retired  in  haste  with- 
out touching  it,  and  related  his  fortune  to  the  rest  of  the  boys, 
who,  coming  with  him,  sought  often  an  entrance,  but  could  never 
find  any.  Some  years  after  a  foreign  artist,  as  Jacob  Bohme 
himself  related,  skilled  in  finding  out  magical  treasures,  took  it 
away,  and  thereby  much  enriched  himself;  yet  he  perished  by 
an  infamous  death,  that  treasure  being  lodged  there  and  covered 
with  a  curse  to  him  that  should  find  and  take  it  away. 

He  also  relates  that  when  he  was  an  apprentice,  his  master 


JACOB   BOHME.  201 

and  his  mistress  being  abroad,  there  came  to  the  shop  a  stran- 
ger, of  a  reverend  and  grave  countenance,  yet  in  mean  apparel, 
and  taking  up  a  pair  of  shoes,  desired  to  buy  them.  The  boy, 
being  yet  scarce  promoted  higher  than  sweeping  the  shop,  would 
not  presume  to  set  a  price  on  them ;  but  the  stranger  being  very 
importunate,  Jacob  at  last  named  a  price  Vv-hich  he  was  certain 
would  keep  him  harmless  in  parting  with  them.  The  old  man 
paid  the  money,  took  the  shoes,  and  went  from  the  shop  a  little 
way,  when,  standing  still,  with  a  loud  and  earnest  voice  he  called, 
'•  Jacob,  Jacob,  come  forth."  The  boy  came  out  in  a  great 
fright,  amazed  that  the  stranger  should  call  him  by  his  Christian 
name.  The  man,  with  a  severe  but  friendly  countenance,  fixing 
his  eyes  upon  him,  which  were  bright  and  sparkling,  took  him 
by  his  right  hand  and  said  to  him: — 

"Jacob,  thou  art  little,  butshalt  be  great,  and  become  another 
man,  such  a  one  as  the  world  shall  wonder  at;  therefore  be 
pious,  fear  God,  and  reverence  his  word.  Read  diligently  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  wherein  thou  hast  comfort  and  instruction. 
For  thou  must  endure  much  misery  and  poverty,  and  suffer 
persecution ;  but  be  courageous  and  persevere,  for  God  loves  and 
is  gracious  unto  thee ;"  and  therewith  pressing  his  hand,  with  a 
bright  sparkling  eye  fixed  on  his  face,  he  departed. 

This  prediction  made  a  deep  impression  upon  Jacob's  mind, 
and  made  him  bethink  himself,  and  grow  serious  in  his  actions, 
keeping  his^houghts  stirring  in  consideration  of  the  caution 
received.  Thenceforward  he  frequented  public  worship  much 
more,  and  profited  thereby  to  the  outward  reformation  of  his 
life.  Considering  Luke  xi.  13 — "My  Father  in  heaven  will 
give  his  Spirit  to  him  that  asks  him,"  he  desired  that  Comforter. 
He  says  that  he  was  at  last  "surrounded  with  a  divine  light  for 
seven  days,  and  stood  in  the  highest  contemplation  and  in  the 
kingdom  of  joys  whilst  he  was  with  his  master  in  the  country 
about  the  affairs  of  his  vocation."  He  then  grew  still  more 
attentive  to  his  duties,  read  the  Scriptures,  and  lived  in  all  the 
observance  of  outward  ministrations.  Scurrilous  and  blasphe- 
mous words  he  would  rebuke  even  in  his  own  master,  who,  being 
not  able  to  bear  this,  set  him  at  liberty  with  full  permission  to 
seek  his  livelihood  as  he  liked  best.  About  the  year  1600,  in 
the  twenty -fifth  year  of  his  age,  Jacob  was  again  surrounded 
by  the  divine  light,  and  viewing  the  herbs  and  gr-iss  in  the 
2G 


202  LI\ES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

fields  near  Gorlitz  in  his  inward  light,  he  saAY  into  their  essences, 
use,  and  properties,  which  were  discovered  to  him  by  their  linea- 
ments, figures,  and  signatures. 

In  like  manner  he  beheld  the  whole  creation,  and  from  that 
fountain  of  revelation  he  wrote  his  book  De  Signatu7'a  Rerum. 
In  unfolding  these  mysteries  he  had  great  joy,  yet  he  looked 
carefully  after  his  family,  and  lived  in  peace  and  silence,  scarce 
intimating  to  any  these  wonderful  things,  till  in  the  year  1610, 
he  wrote  his  first  book,  eaWe^  Aurora,  or  the  Morning  Redness. 

This  manuscript  he  did  not  choose  to  intrust  to  any  man,  till 
a  gentleman  of  rank,  an  intimate  friend  of  his,  having  got  sight 
of  it,  prevailed  upon  him  to  indulge  him  w4th  the  perusal  of  it. 
This  gentleman  immediately  took  it  to  pieces,  and  with  his  own 
hand,  assisted  by  other  transcribers,  copied  it  with  amazing  des- 
patch. Thus,  contrary  to  the  author's  intention,  it  became 
public,  and  fell  into  the  hands  of  Gregory  Richter,  superinten- 
dent of  Gorlitz,  who  making  use  of  his  pulpit  for  speaking  with- 
out a  gainsayer,  to  revile  what  and  whom  he  pleased,  endeavoured 
to  stir  up  the  magistracy  to  exercise  their  jurisdiction  in  rooting 
out  this  supposed  church-weed. 

The  senate  convened  Jacob  Bohme,  seized  his  book,  and 
admonished  him  to  stick  to  his  last,  and  leave  off  writing  books. 
The  original  manuscript  of  the  Aurora,  in  Bohme's  own  hand- 
writing, was  (after  having  been  seven  and  twenty  years  in  the 
custody  of  the  senate  at  Gorlitz)  on  Nov.  26,  1641,4ii:esented  by 
Dr.  Paul  Scipio,  the  then  burgomaster  or  mayor  there,  to 
George  Pflug,  marshal  to  the  court  of  the  elector  of  Dresden. 
Pflug,  who  was  well  affected  to  Bohme,  was  then  on  a  visit  at 
Gorlitz.  Pflug  despatched  this  manuscript  to  Abraham  Wilhelm 
van  Beyerland,  a  citizen  and  merchant  of  Amsterdam. 

Upon  the  command  of  the  senate  he  abstained  from  writing 
for  seven  years,  after  which  he  w^as  moved  again  to  write.  The 
list  of  his  Avorks  stands  as  follows.  The  books  which  he  left 
unfinished  are  put  in  parentheses. 

1.  Aurora.  2.  Of  the  Three  Principles,  1619.  3.  Of  the 
Threefold  Life  of  Man,  1620.  4.  Answers  to  the  Forty  Ques- 
tions  of  the  Soul.  5.  Of  the  Incarnation  of  Jesus  Christ.  Of 
the  Suffering,  Death,  and  Resurrection  of  Christ.  Of  the  Tree 
of  Faith.  6.  Of  the  Six  Points,  great  and  small.  7.  Of  the 
Hea\enly  and  Earthly  Mystery.     8.  Of  the  last  times^  to  P 


JACOB   BOHME.  iiOo 

K.  9.  De  Signatura  Rerum.  10.  A  Consolatory  Book  of  the 
Four  Complexions.  11.  An  Apology  to  Balthasar  Tilken,  in 
two  parts.  12.  Considerations  upon  Isaias  Stiefel's  book.  13. 
Of  true  Repentance,  1622.  14.  Of  true  Resignation.  15.  A 
Book  of  Regeneration.  16.  A  book  of  Predestination  and 
Election  of  God,  1623.  17.  A  Compendium  of  Repentance. 
18.  Mysterium  Magnum,  or  an  Exposition  upon  Genesis.  19. 
A  Table  of  the  Principles,  or  a  Key  of  his  Writings.  20.  Of 
the  Supersensual  Life.  21.  (Of  the  Divine  Vision.)  22.  Of 
the  two  Testaments  of  Christ,  Baptism  and  the  Supper.  23.  A 
Dialogue  between  the  enlightened  and  unenlightened  Soul.  24. 
An  Apology  for  the  Book  on  true  Repentance,  against  a 
Pamphlet  of  the  Primate  of  Gorlitz,  Gregory  Richter.  25.  (A 
Book  of  177  Theosophick  Questions.)  26.  An  Epitome  of  the 
Mysterium  Magnum.  27.  (The  Holy  Weeks,  or  the  Prayer 
Book.)  28.  A  Table  of  the  Divine  Manifestation.  29.  Of  the 
Errors  of  the  Sects  of  Ezekiel  Meths  and  Isaias  Stiefel,  or  An- 
tistiefelius  II.  30.  A  Book  of  the  Last  Judgment.  31.  Letters 
to  divers  Persons  with  Keys  for  hidden  Words. 

The  publication  of  his  first  book  made  many  learned  men 
visit  him,  v/ith  whom  much  conversing,  he  got  the  use  of  those 
Greek  and  Latin  words  that  are  frequent  in  his  works. 

Among  the  learned  that  conversed  with  him  was  a  physician, 
Balthasar  Walter,  from  Silesia,  who  had  travelled  in  search  of 
ancient  magical  learning  through  Egypt,  Syria,  Arabia,  &c., 
where  he  found  such  small  remnants  of  it,  that  he  returned 
unsatisfied  to  his  own  country,  where  he  became  inspector  of 
the  chemical  laboratory  at  Dresden.  Having  become  acquainted 
with  Bbhme,  he  rejoiced  that  at  last  he  had  found  at  home,  in 
a  poor  cottage,  that  for  which  he  had  travelled  so  far  in  vain. 
Walter  introduced  the  appellation  of  Philosoijlius  Teutonicus. 

B.  Walter  went  to  the  German  universities,  and  collected 
such  questions  concerning  the  soul  as  were  thought  and  ac- 
counted impossible  to  be  resolved  fundamentally,  of  which  he 
made  a  catalogue,  being  forty  in  number,  and  sent  them  to 
Bohme,  from  whom  he  received  answers  to  his  satisfaction, 
(which  answers  are  public  in  many  languages.)  Balthasar 
Walter  came  to  Bohme  and  professed  that  he  had  received 
more  solid  answers  than  he  had  found  among  the  best  wits  of 
those  and  more  promising  climates. 


^204  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANAS. 

The  translator  of  the  said  answers  into  English  presented  a 
oopy  to  King  Charles  I.,  who,  a  month  after,  said  that  if  Bohme 
were  no  scholar,  the  Holy  Ghost  was  now  in  men ;  but  if  he 
were  a  scholar,  he  was  one  of  the  best. 

Doctor  Weisner,  after  giving  in  a  letter  a  curious  account  of 
the  persecution  of  Bohme  by  Gregorius  Richter,  the  primate  of 
Gorlitz,  of  Jacob's  banishment  by  the  senate,  of  their  repealing 
their  absurd  and  unjust  order,  goes  on  to  say, — "  Yet  still  tired 
with  the  prelate's  incessant  clamour,  they  at  length  sent  for 
him  again,  and  entreated  him  that  in  love  to  the  city's  quiet 
he  would  seek  himself  a  habitation  elsewhere  ;  which  if  he  would 
do  they  should  hold  themselves  obliged  to  him  for  it,  as  an 
acceptable  service.  In  compliance  with  this  friendly  request 
of  theirs,  he  removed  from  thence.  After  this  upon  a  citation, 
Jacob  Bohme  came  to  Dresden  before  his  highness  the  prince 
elector  of  Saxony,  where  were  assembled  six  doctors  of  divinity, 
Dr.  Hoe,  Dr.  Meisner,  Dr.  Balduin,  Dr.  Gerhard,  Dr.  Leysern, 
and  another  doctor,  and  two  professors  of  the  mathematics. 
And  these,  in  the  presence  of  his  highness  the  prince  elector, 
began  to  examine  him  concerning  his  writings,  and  the  high 
mysteries  therein;  and  many  profound  queries  in  divinit}^ 
philosophy,  and  the  mathematics  they  proposed  to  him.  To 
all  which  he  replied  with  such  meekness  of  spirit,  such  depth 
of  knowledge  and  fulness  of  matter,  that  none  of  those  doctors 
and  professors  returned  one  word  of  dislike  or  contradiction. 
The  prince  his  highness  much  admired  him,  and  required  to 
know  the  result  of  their  judgments  in  what  they  had  heard. 
But  the  doctors  and  examiners  desired  to  be  excused,  and  en- 
treated his  highness  that  he  would  have  patience  till  the  spirit 
of  the  man  had  more  plainly  declared  itself,  for  in  many  par- 
ticulars they  could  not  understand  him. 

"  To  Jacob  Bohme's  questions  they  returned  answers  with 
much  modesty,  being  amazed  to  hear  from  a  man  of  that  mean 
quality  such  mysterious  depths. 

"There  were  two  astrologers  present,  to  whom,  having  dis- 
coursed of  their  science,  he  said,  <■  Thus  far  is  the  knowledge  of 
ycur  art  right  and  good,  grounded  in  the  mystery  of  nature; 
but  what  is  over  and  above  are  heathenish  additions.' 

"  The  elector  being  satisfied  with  his  answers,  took  him  apart, 


JACOB   BOHME  205 

and  discoursed  with  him  concerning  difficult  points,  and  cour- 
teously dismissed  him. 

"  After  this  Dr.  Meisner  and  Dr.  Gerhard,  meeting  at  Witten* 
berg,  expressed  how  greatly  they  admired  the  continued  har 
mony  of  Scriptures  produced  at  his  examination.  Many  learned 
men  and  preachers  now  taught  those  doctrines  of  regeneration 
and  the  means  of  attaining  it  against  which  they  formerly  ex- 
claimed as  heretical.     Bohme  wrote  in  the  albums  of  his  friends, 

"Wem  Zeit  ist  wie  Ewigkeit 
Und  Ewigkeit  wie  die  Zeit 
Der  ist  befreit  von  allem  Streit." 

<•'  Soon  after  Bbhme's  return  to  Grorlitz,  died  his  adversary,  the 
pastor  primarius  Gregorius  Richter ;  and  Bohme  himself  died 
three  months  and  a  half  later. 

"  On  Sunday,  Nov.  18,  1624,  early  in  the  morning,  he  asked 
his  son  Tobias  if  he  heard  the  excellent  music  ?  The  son 
replied,  'No.'  '  Open,'  said  he,  '  the  door,  that  it  may  be  better 
heard.'  Afterward  he  asked  what  the  clock  had  struck,  and 
said,  '  Three  hours  hence  is  my  time.' 

"When  it  was  near  six  he  took  leave  of  his  wife  and  son, 
blessed  them,  and  said,  'Now  go  I  hence  into  Paradise;'  and 
bidding  his  son  to  turn  him,  lie  fetched  a  deep  sigh  and  departed. 
The  new  primarius  refused  to  preach  at  his  funeral,  feigning  to 
be  unwell,  and  his  colleague,  Magister  Elias  Theodorus,  being 
compelled  by  the  magistracy  to  preach  on  his  death,  began  by 
saying  he  would  rather  have  walked  100  miles  than  preach  the 
funeral  sermon. 

"The  physician  at  Gorlitz,  Dr.  Kober,  arranged  his  burial, 
which  was  performed  with  the  usual  ceremonies,  to  the  due 
performance  of  which  the  clergy  were  compelled  by  the  magis- 
trates. His  friends  placed  a  cross  on  his  grave,  but  his  enemies 
pelted  it  with  mud,  and  broke  it  to  pieces.  Jacob  Bohme's 
wife  died  of  the  plague  two  years  later.  One  of  his  four  sons 
was  a  goldsmith ;  the  others  had  learned  other  trades.  All 
died  soon  after  J.  Bohme." 

He  was  lean,  and  of  small  stature;  had  a  low  forehead;  his 
temples  were  prominent;  was  somewhat  hawk-nosed;  his  eyes 
were  gray  and  very  azure ;  his  beard  was  thin  and  short ;  hia 
voice  low,  but  he  had  a  pleasing  speech,  and  was  modest  and 

S 


206  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

humble  in  Ills  conversation.  He  wrote  very  slowly  but  legibly, 
and  seldom  or  never  struck  out  and  corrected  what  he  had 
written. 

After  Bbhme's  death  his  opinions  spread  over  Germany, 
Holland,  and  England.  Even  a  son  of  his  persecutor,  Richter, 
being  then  a  merchant's  clerk  at  Thorn,  edited  at  his  own  ex- 
pense an  epitome  of  Bohme's  works  in  8  volumes,  and  arranged 
their  contents  in  a  sort  of  an  index.  The  younger  Richter 
became  fond  of  Bohme's  doctrines  while  he  yet  attempted  to 
refute  them.  He  printed  of  his  extracts  only  about  100  copies; 
consequently  they  are  now  extremely  scarce.  The  first  col- 
lection of  Bohme's  works  was  published  by  Heinrich  Betke, 
Amst.  1675,  4to. 

Bohme  and  his  followers  were  especially  persecuted  by  the 
clergy,  who  seemed  to  deem  his  writings  on  theosophical  sub- 
jects an  infringe?iient  of  the  prerogatives  of  the  clerical  order. 
The  ecclesiastics  at  Gbrlitz  persecuted  Bbhme  during  his  life, 
and  refused  to  bury  his  corpse  until  they  were  compelled  by  the 
magistrates  not  to  disgrace  the  earthly  remains  of  a  man  who 
had  led  a  harmless  life,  and  always  been  in  strict  communion 
with  the  Lutheran  church.  The  admirers  of  Bbhme  were  for 
the  greater  part  not  professional  divines,  but  noblemen,  country 
gentlemen,  courtiers,  physicians,  chemists,  merchants,  and  in 
general,  men  who  were  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  truth,  and  who 
did  not  stickle  for  modes  of  speech  and  established  formalities. 
The  persecutions  raised  against  him  brought  Bbhme  first  into 
the  notice  of  men  of  rank,  who  took  delight  in  conversing  with 
the  poor  shoemaker  and  his  followers,  while  universities  and 
ecclesiastical  courts  enacted  laws  against  his  opinions,  and  his 
persecuted  disciples  appealed  even  in  England  to  the  high  court 
of  parliament.  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  William  Law,  Schelling,  and 
Hegel,  were  all  readers  of  Bbhme. 

William  Law,  in  the  appendix  to  the  second  edition  of  his 
"  Appeal  to  all  that  doubt  or  disbelieve  the  Truths  of  the  Gos- 
pel," 1756,  mentions,  that  among  the  papers  of  Newton  were 
found  many  autograph  extracts  from  the  works  of  Bbhme. 
Law  conjectures  that  Newton  derived  his  system  of  fundamental 
powers  from  Bbhme,  and  that  he  avoided  mentioning  Bbhme,  as 
the  originator  of  his  system,  lest  it  should  come  into  disrepute 
Bbhme's  theosophy  consists  in  the  endeavour  to  demonstrate 


JACOB   BOHME.  207 

in  every  thing  its  necessity  by  tracing  its  origin  to  the  attributes 
of  God.  Consequently  some  of  Bohme's  phrases  sound  like  the 
doctrines  of  Manichsean  emanation,  and  have  been  misinter- 
preted as  being  such.  Bohme  traces  the  parallelism  between 
the  visible  physical,  and  the  invisible  metaphysical  world.  His 
comparisons  and  images  are  not  the  essence  of  his  theosophy, 
but  only  illustrative  of  thoughts  which  have  commanded  the 
admiration  and  approbation  of  some  of  the  deepest  thinkers, 
while  others  are  apt  to  neglect  him  entirely  on  account  of  his 
errors  in  subordinate  non-essentials.  Bohme  forms  undoubtedly 
an  important  link  in  the  chain  of  thought,  which  connects  the 
present  state  of  philosophy  with  the  beginnings  of  former  ages. 
He  often  produces  magnificent  ideas,  but  he  occasionally  sup- 
ports his  theory  by  false  etymologies,  and  by  chemical  and 
astrological  notions  which  have  been  long  ago  rejected.  A 
specimen  of  false  etymology  is  his  derivation  of  the  word  qualitat 
(^.  e.  quality)  from  the  German  qual,  i,  e.  pain,  and  quelle, 
i,  e.  well,  fountain,  source.  He  has  now  again  many  admirers 
in  Germany,  but  perhaps  no  one  woul^  approve  of  this  mode 
f  demonstration. 


208 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


HUGO   GROTIUS. 


UGO  GROTIUS  was  born  at  Delft,  10th 
April,  1583,  of  which  town  his  father,  John 
de  Groot,  was  burgomaster,  and  also  curator 
of  the  then  newly  established  University  of 
Leyden.  From  his  boyhood,  Grotius  mani- 
fested an  extraordinary  ability ;  and  he  is  said 
to  have  written  Latin  verses  when  he  was  only 
eight  years  old.  At  the  age  of  eleven,  he  was 
sent  to  the  University  of  Leyden,  where  his 
education  was  particularly  superintended  by  the 
theologian  Junius,  with  whom  he  lived,  and  by 
Joseph  Scaliger.  He  remained  three  years  at  Ley- 
den, during  which  he  applied  himself  to  the  study 
of  divinity,  law,  and  mathematics.  Li  1597,  he  main- 
tained two  public  theses  on  philosophy,  and  wrote  in 
praise  of  Henry  IV.,  in  Latin,  a  poem  entitled  "  Tri- 
umphus  Gallicus,"  which  he  dedicated  to  M.  de  Buzenval,  the 
French  ambassador  in  Holland.  In  1598,  he  accompanied  a 
Dutch  embassy  to  Paris,  where  he  was  introduced  to  the  king, 
who  gave  him  a  golden  chain  and  presented  him  to  his  court  as 
the  miracle  of  Holland.  After  one  year's  stay  in  France, 
where  he  was  treated  with  much  distinction  by  many  eminent 
pei^onages,  he  returned  to  Holland,  whence  he  addressed  a  let- 
ter to  Thuanus,  (De  Thou,)  expressing  his  regret  at  having 
missed  an  opportunity  of  making  his  acquaintance  when  in 
France.  This  letter  laid  the  foundation  of  a  'literary  and 
friendly  correspondence,  which  lasted  till  the  death  of  Thuanus. 
In  the  same  year,  (1599,)  he  published  an  edition  of  Martianus 
Capella,  with  notes,  which  he  dedicated  to  the  Prince  de  Condd 
This  edition  is  adorned,  besides  a  portrait  of  the  Prince  de 
Cond^,  with  that  of  Grotius  himself,  aged  fifteen,  wearing  the 
chain  which  he  had  received  from  Henry  IV.     Immediately  on 


HUGO   GROTIUS.  20d 

his  return  from  France,  Grotius  was  called  to  the  bar,  and 
pleaded  with  great  success ;  but  his  legal  occupations  did  not 
prevent  him  from  attending  to  other  studies.  In  the  same 
year,  1599,  he  published  a  Latin  translation  of  a  nautical  work, 
written  by  Stevinus,  at  the  request  of  the  Prince  Maurice  of 
Nassau,  for  the  use  of  naval  officers.  In  1600,  appeared  his 
edition  of  the  "Phgenomena"  of  Aratus.  The  corrections  he 
made  in  the  Greek  text  are  considered  to  be  very  judicious,  and 
his  notes  show  some  knowled2:e  of  Arabic.  Notwithstanding; 
these  serious  studies,  Grotius  found  time  for  cultivating  poetry, 
and  with  such  success  that  he  was  considered  one  of  the  best 
Latin  poets  of  his  time.  The  "  Prosopopeia"  of  the  city  of 
Ostend,  which  had  sustained  a  siege  of  three  years,  was  univer- 
sally considered  a  masterpiece,  and  was  translated  into  French 
by  Eapin,  Pasquier,  and  Malherbe,  and  into  Greek  by  Isaac 
Casaubon. 

Grotius  was  nominated  advocate-general  for  the  treasury  of 
Holland  and  Zealand  in  1607,  and  in  the  next  year  married 
Mary  Reygersburgh,  a  lady  of  great  family  in  Zealand.  In 
1613,  he  was  made  pensionary  of  Rotterdam,  an  important 
place,  which  gave  him  a  seat  in  the  assembly  of  the  states  of 
Holland,  and  afterwards  in  that  of  the  states-general,  and  it 
was  about  that  time  that  he  contracted  an  intimate  friendship 
with  Olden  Barneveldt,  a  connection  which  exercised  the  greatest 
influence  on  his  life.  In  1615,  Grotius  was  sent  to  England,  in 
order  to  arrange  the  difficulties  arising  from  the  claims  of  the- 
English  to  exclude  the  Dutch  from  the  whale-fisheries  of  Green- 
land. During  that  negotiation,  Grotius  was  by  no  means  satis- 
fied with  the  English  ministry ;  but  he  was  much  pleased  with 
his  reception  by  King  James.  The  most  agreeable  incident  of 
his  visit  to  England  was,  however,  the  opportunity  which  it 
afforded  him  of  forming  an  intimate  friendship  with  Isaac 
Casaubon,  in  common  with  whom  he  entertained  a  hope  of 
uniting  all  Christians  into  one  church.  The  'intimacy  of 
Grotius  with  Barneveldt,  whose  political  and  religious  opi- 
nions he  shared,  involved  him  in  the  misfortune  of  his  friend. 
He  was  condemned,  on  the  18th  May,  1619,  to  perpetual 
imprisonment,  and  his  property  was  confiscated.  Pursuant 
to  this  sentence,  he  was  conveyed,  on  the  6th  Jane,  in  the 
same  year,  to  the  fortress  of  Loevestein,  situated  at  the  ex 
27  8  2 


210  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

tremit^  of  an  island  formed  bj  the  Maas  and  the  Waal.  Hia 
wife  was  allowed  to  share  her  husband's  imprisonment ;  but 
Grotius's  father  was  refused  permission  to  see  his  son.  During 
the  imprisonment  of  Grotius,  study  became  his  consolation  and 
the  business  of  his  life.  In  several  of  his  letters,  addressed 
from  Loevestein  to  Yossius,  he  gives  an  account  of  his  studies, 
informing  him  that  he  was  occupied  with  law  and  moral  philo- 
sophy. He  devoted  his  Sundays  to  reading  works  on  religious 
subjects,  and  he  employed  in  the  same  way  the  time  which  re- 
mained after  his  ordinary  labours  were  over.  He  wrote,  during 
his  imprisonment,  his  treatise  on  the  truth  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion, in  Dutch  verse,  (which  he  subsequently  translated  into 
Latin  prose,)  translated  the  "  Phoenissas"  of  Euripides  into 
Latin  verse,  wrote  the  institutions  of  the  laws  of  Holland  in 
Dutch,  and  drew  up  for  his  daughter  Cornelia  a  kind  of  cate- 
chism in  one  hundred  and  eighty-five  questions  and  answers, 
written  in  Flemish  verse.  After  eighteen  months'  confinement, 
Grotius  was  at  last  released  by  the  ingenuity  of  his  wife,  who 
had  obtained  permission  to  go  out  of  the  prison  twice  a  week. 
He  constantly  received  books,  which  were  brought  in  and  taken 
out  in  a  large  chest  together  with  his  linen.  For  some  time 
this  chest  was  strictly  examined  by  the  guards  ;  but,  finding 
only  books  and  foul  linen,  they  at  last  grew  tired  of  the  search 
and  gave  it  up.  Grotius's  wife,  having  observed  this,  persuaded 
her  husband  to  get  into  the  chest,  which  he  did,  and  in  this 
manner  escaped  from  the  fortress  on  the  21st  of  March,  1621 
He  made  his  way  through  Antwerp  to  France,  where  his  wife, 
who  had  been  detained  for  about  a  fortnight  in  prison,  joined 
him  a  few  months  afterwards. 

Louis  XIII.  received  Grotius  very  favourably,  and  granted 
him  a  pension  of  3000  livres  ;  but  it  was  paid  with  great  irre- 
gularity. He  was  harshly  treated  by  the  Protestant  ministers 
of  Charenton^  who,  having  assented  to  the  doctrines  of  the  Synod 
of  Dordrecht,  refused  to  admit  Grotius  into  their  communion, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  have  divine  service  performed  at  home. 
At  Paris  (1622)  he  published  his  "Apology,"  which  was  pro- 
hibited in  Holland  under  severe  penalties.  Having  spent  a 
year  at  Paris,  he  retired  to  a  country-seat  of  the  President  De 
Mesmes,  near  Senlis,  where  he  spent  the  spring  and  summer 
of  1623.     It  was  in  that  retreat  that  he  commenced  his  work 


HUGO   GROTIUS.  211 

"  De  Jure  Belli  et  Pacis,"  which  was  published  in  the  next 

year. 

During  his  residence  in  France,  he  was  constantly  annoyed 
with  importunities  to  come  over  to  the  Roman  Catholic  religion ; 
but,  though  he  was  tired  of  the  country  and  received  invitations 
from  the  Duke  of  Holstein  and  the  King  of  Denmark,  he  de- 
clined them.      Gustavus  Adolphus  also  made  him  offers,  which, 
after  his  death,  were   repeated  by  Oxenstiern  in  the  name  of 
Queen  Christina.     In  the  mean  time,  the  Stadtholder  Maurice 
died,  and  his  successor  seeming  less  hostile  to  Grotius,  he  was 
induced,  by  the  entreaties  of  his  Dutch  friends,  to  venture  to 
return.     He  arrived  at  Rotterdam  in  September,  1631,  and  the 
news  of  his  return   excited  a   great  sensation  throughout  all 
Holland.     But,  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  his  friends,  he  was 
again  obliged  to  leave  the  country,  and  went  (in  1632)  to  Ham- 
burg, where  he  lived  till  1634,  when  he  joined  the  Chancellor 
Oxenstiern  at  Frankfort-on-the-Main,  who  appointed  him  coun- 
cillor to  the  Queen  of  Sweden  and  her  ambassador  at  the  court 
of  France.     The  object  of  the  embassy  was  to  obtain  the  assist- 
ance of  France  against  the  emperor.     Grotius  arrived  at  Paris 
in  March,  1635  ;  and,  although  he  had  many  difficulties  to  en- 
counter from  Richelieu,  and  afterwards  from  Mazarin,  he  main- 
tained the  rights  and  promoted  the  interests  of  his  adopted 
sovereign  with  great  firmness.     He  continued  in  his  post  till 
1644,  when  he  was  recalled  at  his  own  request.     Having  ob- 
tained a  passport  through  Holland,  he  embarked  on  his  return 
at  Dieppe,  and,  on  his  landing  at  Amsterdam,  (1645,)  was  re- 
ceived with  great  distinction  and  entertained  at  the  public  ex- 
pense.   From  Amsterdam  he  proceeded  by  Hamburg  and  Lli- 
beck  to  Stockholm,  where  he  vvas  received  in  the  most  flattering 
manner  by  the  queen.     Grotius,  however,  was  not  pleased  with 
the  learned  flippancy  of  Christina's  court,  and  resolved  on  quit- 
ting Sweden.     The  climate  also  did  not  agree  with  him.     The 
queen,  having  in  vain  tried  to  retain  him  in  her  service,  made 
him  a  present  of  a  large  sum  of  money  and  of  some  costly  ob- 
jects.    She  also  gave  him  a  vessel,  in  which  he  embarked  for 
Lubeck  on  the  12th  August ;  but  a  violent  storm,  by  which  his 
ship  was  tossed  about  during  three  days,  obliged  him  to  land 
on  the  ITth  in  Pomerania,  about  fifteen  leagues  from  Danzig, 
whence  he  proceeded  towards  Lubeck.     He  arrived  at  Rostock. 


212  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

on  the  26tli,  very  ill  from  the  fatigues  of  the  journey,  and  from 
exposure  to  wind  and  rain  in  an  open  carriage.  He  died  on 
the  28th  August,  1645,  in  the  sixty-third  year  of  his  age.  His 
last  moments  were  spent  in  religious  preparation,  and  he  died 
expressing  the  sentiments  of  a  true  Christian.  His  body  was 
carried  to  Delft  and  deposited  in  the  grave  of  his  ancestors, 
where  a  monument  was  erected  to  him  in  1781.  Two  medals 
were  struck  in  honour  of  him. 

Notwithstanding  his  stormy  life,  the  works  of  Grotius  are 
very  numerous.  They  treat  of  divinity,  jurisprudence,  history, 
literature,  and  poetry.     Many  of  them  are  become  classical. 


I 


JOHN  ELIOT. 


213 


JOHN  ELIOT. 


LIOT  is  believed  to  have  been  by  birth  an 
Englishman,  and  was  born  in  1604.  Little 
is  known  of  his  early  history.  His  mind  was 
from  childhood  deeply  imbued  with  a  sense 
of  religious  duty,  and  for  this  he  appears  to 
have  been  remarkable  at  Cambridge  Univer- 
sity. But  no  real  change  of  heart  appears  to 
have  taken  place  until,  after  leaving  the  uni- 
versity, he  became  usher  in  the  school  of  Little 
Baddow,  which  was  under  the  care  of  the  Rev. 
Thomas  Hooker.  Here  a  deep  conviction  of  his 
own  sinfulness  was  forced  upon  him ;  he  devoted  lii« 
whole  mind  to  an  investigation  of  gospel  truth ;  and 
soon  received  a  degree  of  light  and  truth,  which  he 
considered  as  a  witness  that  he  was  accepted  as  a  child 
of  God.  He  resolved  to  devote  himself  henceforth  to  the 
service  of  heaven ;  and,  to  do  so  more  effectually,  he  adopted  the 
resolution  of  becoming  pastor  to  some  of  the  emigrant  congrega- 
tions which  were  at  that  time  settling  on  the  shores  of  New  Eng- 
land. In  November,  1631,  he  arrived  at  Boston,  joined  a  newly 
arrived  congregation,  was  elected  their  pastor,  and  assisted  in 
founding  the  town  of  Roxbury.  The  purity  of  his  life,  and  the 
forcible  manner  in  which  he  proclaimed  the  gospel,  soon  spread 
his  reputation  to  the  surrounding  settlements,  and  caused  his 
congregation  to  increase  rapidly.  To  the  hardy  settlers  his 
kindness  to  children  was  especially  pleasing ;  and  to  their  edu- 
cation, both  on  secular  and  religious  subjects,  he  devoted  many 
hours  of  his  life. 

But  Eliot  merits  our  greatest  esteem  by  his  efforts  as  a 
missionary  among  the  Indians.  His  first  sermon  to  these 
benighted  people  was  at  a  place  about  four  miles  from  Rox- 
bury.     It  was  attended  with  prayer  and  other  exercises,  and 


•214  LIVKS   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

appears  to  have  produced  a  deep  effect.  Other  meetings  met 
with  such  success,  that  the  Indian  doctors  at  length  forbade 
their  countrymen  to  attend  them.  The  prohibition  was  vain. 
Numbers  flocked  from  every  side;  many  abandoned  their  savage, 
life  and  became  true  converts  to  the  gospel;  Indian  congrega- 
tions were  formed ;  and  a  town  was  built,  where  the  new  con- 
verts could  assemble  and  adopt  the  modes  of  civilized  life.  It 
was  in  fact  the  foundation  of  an  Indian  Christian  community, 
where  the  wild  sons  of  the  forest  laid  aside  the  habits  of  their 
ancestors,  and  became  useful  to  themselves  and  their  children. 
"My  desire,"  says  Eliot,  "is  to  teach  them  all  to  write,  and 
read  written  hand,  and  thereby  v;ith  painstaking,  they  may 
have  some  of  the  Scriptures  in  their  own  language.  If  once  I 
had  some  of  themselves  able  to  write  and  read,  it  might  further 
the  work  exceedingly,  and  will  be  the  speediest  way."  Such 
efforts  could  not  be  barren  of  results.  The  Indian  congregation 
soon  began  to  assume  the  order  and  comfort  of  a  Puritan  colony ; 
and  the  warm  support  afforded  by  the  government  at  V\y- 
raouth,  enabled  Eliot  to  proceed  rapidly  in  his  good  work  among 
other  and  more  distant  tribes.  He  journeyed  from  place  to 
place,  everywhere  proclaiming  the  glad  news  of  salvation;  and 
some  of  the  converts,  sharing  his  zeal,  assisted  in  these  labours. 
"I  have  not  been  dry  night  nor  day,"  is  his  language,  <'from 
the  third  day  of  the  week  to  the  sixth,  but  have  travelled  from 
place  to  place  in  that  condition.  At  night  I  pull  off  my  boot&, 
wring  my  stockings,  and  on  with  them  again,  and  so  continue. 
The  rivers  also  were  deep,  so  that  we  were  wet  in  riding  through. 
But  God  steps  in  and  helps  me.  I  have  considered  the  exhor- 
tation of  Paul  to  his  son  Timothy,  'endure  hardness  as.a  good 
soldier  of  Jesus  Christ,'  with  many  other  such  like  meditations." 
News  of  the  success  of  Eliot  at  length  reached  England. 
Parliament,  in  an  act  which  does  them  credit,  made  provision 
to  encourage  those  engaged  in  converting  the  Indians ;  and  com- 
missioners raised  large  sums  throughout  England,  and  appro- 
priated them  to  the  Indian  mission.  This  assistance  Eliot 
knew  how  to  appreciate;  but  he  was  still  obliged  to  struggle 
with  difficulties.  He  felt  that  knowledge  and  religion  should 
go  hand  in  hand;  and  his  desire  was  to  see  schools  established, 
where  might  hi  taught  to  the  different  tribes  the  English  lan- 
guage and  the  rudiments  of  an  English  education.     "Sundry 


JOHN  ELIOT.  215 

in  the  country,"  he  says,  "in  different  places  would  gladly  be 
taught  the  knowledge  of  God  and  Jesus  Christ,  and  would  pray 
unto  God,  if  I  could  go  unto  them  and  teach  them  where  they 
dwell ;  but  to  come  and  live  here,  among  or  near  to  the  English, 
they  are  not  willing.  A  place  must  be  found  somewhat  remote 
from  the  English,  where  they  must  have  the  word  constantly 
taught,  and  government  constantly  exercised,  means  of  good 
subsistence,  and  encouragements  for  the  industrious  provided. 
Such  a  project  would  draw  many  that  are  Avell  minded  together." 
The  result  of  these  representations  and  labours  was  a  con- 
siderable grant  of  land  on  the  Charles  river.  Here  was  built 
the  Indian  town  Natick,  in  which  a  large  number  of  the  new 
converts  formed  themselves  into  a  civil  and  religious  com- 
munity, and  in  a  solemn  manner  openly  dedicated  themselves 
to  God.  The  nature  of  the  change  which  had  taken  place 
among  the  Indians  cannot  be  better  described  than  by  exhibit- 
ing the  death-bed  scene  of  one  of  the  converted  chiefs.  It  is 
in  Eliot's  own  words.  "  He  made  so  gracious  an  end  of  his  life, 
embraced  death  with  such  holy  submission  to  the  Lord,  and 
was  so  little  terrified  at  it,  as  that  he  hath  greatly  strengthened 
the  faith  of  the  living.  I  think  he  did  more  good  by  his  death 
than  he  could  have  done  by  his  life.  One  of  his  sayings  was, 
God  giveth  us  three  mercies  in  the  world — the  first  is  health 
and  strength,  the  second  is  food  and  clothes,  the  third  is  sick- 
ness and  death;  and  when  we  have  had  our  share  in  the  two 
first,  why  should  we  not  be  willing  to  take  our  part  in  the  third  ? 
His  last  words  were  '  0  Lord,  give  me  Jesus  Christ.'  When  he 
could  speak  no  more,  he  continued  to  lift  up  his  hands  to  hea- 
ven, according  as  his  strength  lasted,  until  his  last  breath. 
When  I  visited  him  the  last  time,  one  of  his  sayings  was  this : 
<Four  years  and  a  quarter  since,  I  came  to  your  house  and 
brought  some  of  my  children  to  dwell  with  the  English;  now, 
when  I  die,  I  strongly  entreat  elder  Heath,  and  the  rest  who 
have  our  children,  that  they  may  be  taught  to  know  God,  so 
that  they  may  teach  their  countrymen.'  His  heart  was  much 
upon  our  intended  work,  to  gather  a  church  among  them. 
Turning  to  the  company  who  were  present,  he  spake  unto  them 
thus : — '  I  now  shall  die,  but  Jesus  Christ  calleth  you  that  live 
to  go  to  Natick,  that  there  the  Lord  might  rule  over  you,  that 
you  might  make  a  church,  and  have  the  ordinances  of  God  among 


216  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

you,  believe  liis  word,  and  do  as  he  commandeth  you.  Hi* 
gracious  words  were  acceptable  and  affecting.  The  Indians 
flocked  together  to  hear  them.  They  beheld  his  death  with 
many  tears;  nor  am  I  able  to  write  his  story  without  weeping." 
Many  a  death-bed  scene,  equally  affecting,  attested  how  thorough 
was  the  reformation  which,  by  means  of  Eliot,  a  benign  Provi- 
dence had  wrought  in  the  hearts  of  these  poor  savages. 

After  much  disappointment  and  delay,  a  neat  church  edifice 
Avas  raised  at  Natick;  and  in  1661,  an  edition  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament in  the  Indian  language  was  issued  from  the  press  of  the 
society  in  England.  Two  years  after,  an  edition  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament appeared,  thus  completing  the  work  for  which  Eliot  had 
so  ardently  longed  and  toiled.  The  Bible  was  followed  by 
translations  of  the  Psalter  and  some  smaller  works.  Their 
appearance  excited  Eliot  to  new  efforts;  other  ministers  en- 
gaged with  him  in  the  good  work ;  his  son  became  a  missionary, 
whose  preaching  and  success  were  worthy  of  his  father,  but 
whose  career  was  soon  arrested  by  death.  Two  years  after  this 
domestic  affliction,  Eliot  published  an  Indian  Grammar,  and 
about  the  same  time  instituted  a  course  of  lectures  at  Natick^ 
upon  the  leading  principles  of  theology  and  logic.  He  next 
directed  his  efforts  to  the  production  of  the  second  edition  of 
the  Indian  Bible ;  and  its  publication  appears  to  have  been  his 
last  effort  as  a  Christian  writer.  He  had  now  reached  the 
age  of  eighty,  and  could  preach  to  the  Indians  only  about  once 
a  month;  but  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  church  of 
Natick  supplied  by  an  Indian  pastor,  and  that  in  various  tribes 
many  converts  were  either  engaged  in  preaching,  or  busily 
preparing  themselves  for  the  sacred  office.  He  now  wished  to 
resign  his  office  at  Roxbury ;  but  to  this  the  congregation  would 
not  consent.  He  then  suggested  the  election  of  a  colleague, 
using  on  that  occasion  the  following  disinterested  language. 
"'Tis  possible  you  may  think  the  burden  of  maintaining  two 
ministers  may  be  too  heavy  for  you ;  but  I  deliver  from  you  that 
fear ;  I  do  here  give  back  iny  salary  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ; 
and  now,  brethren,  you  may  fix  that  upon  any  man  that  God 
shall  make  a  pastor  over  you."  The  church  however  continued 
his  salary.  A  young  man,  named  Nehemiah  Walter,  a  graduate 
of  Harvard  College,  was  elected  as  his  associate,  and  the  choice 
proved  highly  gratifying  to  his  aged  friend.     After  this,  Eliot 


JOHN   ELIOT.  217 

prea.ched  very  rarely;  although  much  of  his  time  was  occupied 
in  catechising  and  instructing  the  Indians.  But  early  in  the 
year  1690,  he  began  to  fail  rapidly,  and  he  was  soon  laid,  amid 
great  sufferings,  upon  the  bed  of  death.  In  that  solemn  hour, 
when  the  proud  mind  of  man  shrinks  before  the  stroke  of  death, 
and  when  the  things  of  earth  have  ceased  to  charm,  the  old 
man's  heart  was  still  directed  to  his  favourite  work.  "  There 
is  a  cloud,"  he  said,  almost  with  his  last  breath,  "a  dark  cloud 
upon  the  work  of  the  gospel  among  the  poor  Indians.  The 
Lord  revive  and  prosper  that  work,  and  grant  that  it  may  live 
when  I  am  dead.  It  is  a  work  which  I  have  been  doing  much 
and  long  about.  But  what  was  the  word  I  spoke  last  ?  I  recall 
that  word  my  doings !  Alas  !  they  have  been  poor,  and  small, 
and  lean  doings ;  and,  I'll  be  the  man  that  shall  throw  the  first 
stone  at  them."  Eliot  died  in  the  eighty-sixth  year  of  his  age 
His  devout  piety  and  the  zeal  which  he  displayed  in  preaching 
the  gospel  will  appear,  when  we  reflect  that  from  his  time  few 
efforts  have  succeeded  in  civilizing  any  Indian  tribes  withjn 
the  space  of  an  ordinary  lifetime.  On  the  contrary,  they  have 
generally  looked  with  an  eye  of  jealousy  upon  missionary  effort, 
and  in  the  majority  of  cases  have  used  every  exertion  to  render 
it  of  no  avail. 


218 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


GEORGE   FOX, 


OUNDER  of  the  sect  of  Quakers,  an  entliu 
siast  honest,  zealous,  illiterate,  yet  of  no  mean 
capacity  and  influence,  was  born  at  Drayton, 
in  Leicestershire,  in  July,  1624.  His  origin 
and  the  beginning  of  his  preaching  are  thus 
shortly  told  by  Neal.  His  father,  being  a  poor 
weaver,  put  him  apprentice  to  a  country  shoe- 
maker ;  but  having  a  peculiar  turn  of  mind  for 
religion,  he  went  away  from  his  master,  and  wan- 
dered up  and  down  the  countries  like  a  hermit,  in 
a  leathern  doublet :  at  length,  his  friends,  hearing 
he  was  at  London,  persuaded  him  to  return  home, 
and  settle  in  some  regular  course  of  employment;  but 
after  he  had  been  some  months  in  the  country,  he  went 
from  his  friends  a  second  time  in  the  year  1646,  and 
threw  off  all  further  attendance  on  the  public  service  in 
the  churches.  The  reasons  he  gave  for  his  conduct  were,  be- 
cause it  was  revealed  to  him  that  a  learned  education  at  the 
university  was  no  qualification  for  a  minister,  but  that  all  de- 
pended on  the  anointing  of  the  Spirit ;  and  that  God  who  made 
the  world  did  not  dwell  in  temples  made  with  hands.  In  1647, 
he  travelled  into  Derbyshire  and  Nottinghamshire,  walking 
through  divers  towns  and  villages,  which  way  soever  his  mind 
turned,  in  a  solitary  manner.  He  fasted  much,  and  walked 
often  abroad  in  retired  places,  with  no  other  companion  but  his 
Bible.  He  would  sometimes  sit  in  a  hollow  tree  all  day,  and 
frequently  walk  about  the  fields  in  the  night  like  a  man  pos- 
sessed with  deep  melancholy.  Towards  the  latter  end  of  this 
year  he  began  first  to  set  up  as  a  teacher  of  others,  the  princi- 
pal argument  of  his  discourse  being,  that  people  should  receive 
the  inward  divine  teachings  of  the  Lord,  and  take  that  for  their 
rule. 


GEORGE   FOX.  219 

From  the  beginning  of  his  teaching  he  discontinned  the  use 
^■>f  outward  marks  of  respect.  He  sajs,  in  his  journal  for  1648, 
"When  the  Lord  sent  me  forth  into  the  world,  he  forbid  me  to 
put  off  my  hat  to  any,  high  or  low,  and  I  was  required  to  thee 
and  thou  all  men  and  women,  without  any  respect  to  rich  or 
poor,  great  or  small ;  and  as  I  travelled  up  and  down,  I  was 
not  to  bid  people  good-morrow  or  good-evening,  neither  might 
1  bow  or  scrape  with  my  leg  to  any  one ;  and  this  made  the-  sects 
and  professions  to  rage."  Nothing  probably  conduced  so  much 
to  the  virulent  persecution  of  the  Quakers  as  their  refusal  of 
such  tokens  of  respect,  which  persons  in  office  interpreted  into 
wilful  contempt,  except  their  conscientious  refusal  to  take  any 
oath,  which  involved  them  in  the  heavy  penalties  attached  to 
the  refusal  of  the  oaths  of  allegiance  and  supremacy. 

We  shall  not  enter  on  a  detail  of  his  religious  tenets,  labours, 
or  sufferings;  the  latter  are  fully  recorded  in  his  journal,  and 
noticed  in  most  histories.  It  is  necessary,  however,  to  refer  to 
his  doctrine,  that  "It  is  not  the  Scriptures,  but  the  Holy  Spirit, 
by  which  opinions  and  religions  are  to  be  tried."  By  this  test, 
each  convert  might  believe  himself  possessed  of  a  peculiar  in- 
fallible internal  guide ;  and,  in  fact,  it  proved  a  v/arrant  for 
any  wild  fancies  which  entered  the  minds  of  his  followers,  and 
led  some  into  extravagances  which  gave  a  colour  for  the  cruel 
treatment  which  all  experienced.  Into  such  extravagances 
Fox  himself  does  not  appear  to  have  been  betrayed.  From 
1648  till  within  a  few  years  of  his  death,  his  life  was  made  up 
of  travel,  disputation,  and  imprisonment.  He  visited  the  con- 
tinent of  Europe  several  times,  and,  in  1671,  made  a  voyage  to 
the  American  colonies.  Wherever  he  went,  he  seems  to  have 
left  permanent  traces  of  his  preaching  and  presence.  Quaker 
meeting-houses  were  first  established  in  Lancashire,  and  the 
parts  adjacent,  in  1652,  and  in  1667,  the  congregations  were 
organized  into  one  body  for  purposes  of  correspondence,  charity, 
and  the  maintenance  of  uniform  discipline.  The  term  Quaker 
arose  at  Derby,  in  1650,  on  occasion  of  Fox  being  brought  be- 
fore one  Justice  Bennet,  "  who  was  the  first  that  called  us 
Quakers,  because  I  bid  them  Tremble  at  the  W^y^d  of  the  Lord.** 
In  1677,  and  again  in  1681,  he  visited  the  Netherlands,  where 
his  tenets  had  taken  deep  root.  After  his  return  from  the  latter 
journey,  his  constitution  being  broken  by  tAe  labours  and  hard 


220  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

ships  of  near  forty  jears,  he  desisted  from  travelling,  but  con 
tinned  to  preacn  occasionally  in  London,  till  within  a  few  days- 
of  his  death,  which  took  place  January  13,  1691. 

To  Fox,  and  others  among  his  associates,  the  praise  of  zeal^ 
patience,  self-denial,  courage,  are  amply  due ;  and  their  suffer- 
ings, under  colour  of  law,  are  a  disgraceful  evidence  of  the 
tyranny  of  the  government  and  the  intolerance  of  the  people. 
But  there  was  one  point  in  Fox's  early  conduct  which  justly 
exposed  him  to  censure  and  punishment,  his  frequent  interrup- 
tion of  divine  worship  as  performed  by  others.  From  thi& 
practice,  in  the  latter  part  of  his  ministry,  he  seems  to  have 
abstained.  His  moral  excellence  and  the  genuineness  of  his 
devotion  are  unquestioned.  Penn,  a  favourable  w^itness,  but  a 
grave,  sober,  learned  man,  not  likely  to  be  caught  by  mere 
ranting,  has  left  an  elaborate  tribute  to  Fox's  virtues  in  the  pre- 
face to  Fox's  Journal,  from  which  we  extract  the  following  de- 
tached passages: 

"  He  had  an  extraordinary  gift  in  opening  the  Scriptures, 
but  above  all  he  excelled  in  prayer.  The  inwardness  and  weight 
of  his  speech,  the  reverence  and  solemnity  of  his  address  and 
behaviour,  and  the  trueness  and  fulness  of  his  words,  have  often 
struck  even  strangers  with  admiration.  The  most  awful  living 
reverent  frame  I  ever  felt  or  beheld,  I  must  say,  was  his  in 
prayer.  *  *  *  He  was  of  an  innocent  life,  no  busy-body,  nor 
self-seeker,  *  *  *  a  most  merciful  man,  as  ready  to  forgive,  as 
unapt  to  give  or  take  an  offence,  *  *  *  an  incessant  labourer  ; 
as  unwearied,  so  undaunted  in  his  services  for  God  and  his  peo- 
ple ;  he  was  no  more  to  be  moved  to  fear  than  to  wrath,  *  *  * 
civil  beyond  all  forms  of  breeding,  very  temperate,  eating  little, 
and  sleeping  less,  though  a  bulky  person."  Fox's  writings 
were  for  the  most  part  short,  they  are  very  numerous,  and  in 
the  collective  edition  fill  three  volumes  folio. 


INCREASE   MATHER. 


INCREASE   MATHER 


HIS  distinguished  divine  was  the  fourth  son  of 
Richard  Mather,  a  distinguished  non-conform- 
ing preacher,  of  Lancaster,  England,  who  emi- 
o-rated  to  Massachusetts  in  1635.  The  son  gra- 
duated  at  Harvard  college  in  1656,  and  became 
pastor  of  the  North  church  at  Boston  in  1661. 
As  early  as  1681,  he  was  invited  to  the  presi- 
dency of  the  college ;  but,  as  his  congregation 
refused  to  part  with  him,  the  honour  was  confer- 
red upon  Rogers.  The  new  president  died  in  1684, 
and  Mather  was  again  elected.  He  accepted  the 
office  on  condition  of  being  permitted  to  comply,  to 
a  reasonable  extent,  with  the  requisitions  of  his  con- 
gregation. He  preached  to  them  on  Sundays  without 
interfering  with  his  collegiate  duties,  or  even  with  the 
time  which  he  devoted  to  the  production  of  his  volumi- 
nous works.  His  reputation  for  learning  and  integrity  brought 
him  into  the  notice  of  the  colonial  government,  by  which  he  was 
employed  in  several  important  and  delicate  duties. 

When  Charles  II.  endeavoured  to  wrest  the  charter  from 
Massachusetts,  Mather  used  his  influence  to  dissuade  the  peo- 
ple from  complying  with  the  royal  wish.  His  great  opponent 
on  this  subject  was  Edward  Randolph,  an  individual  not  at  all 
scrupulous  in  the  choice  of  means  to  ruin  an  adversary.  He 
forged  Mather's  signature  to  a  letter  addressed  to  Sir  Lionel 
Jenkins,  in  which  were  numerous  reflections  on  that  nobleman'^ 
conduct,  and  praises  of  Lord  Shaftesbury,  the  infamous  Gates, 
and  others.  This  being  a  weak  as  well  as  a  bad  effort,  Li- 
onel treated  it  with  contempt.  Mather  seems  to  have  been 
ignorant  of  this  affair  until  some  years  after  ;  but  then  he  ex- 
pressed his  conviction  to  Lionel  that  the  letter  had  been  writ- 
ten by  Randolph.     Randolph  brought  an  action  against  him  for 

t2 


222  LIVES    OF   E-MIXENT    CHRISTIANS, 

defamation.  The  case  was  decided  for  Mather.  Randolph, 
being  enraged  at  this  unfortunate  turn  in  his  plans,  brought  a 
second  action  ;  but,  in  the  mean  while,  Mather  had  been  ap- 
pointed by  the  general  assembly  to  represent  their  condition  in 
England,  and  to  remonstrate  against  the  arbitrary  conduct  of 
Andres.  While  the  writ  was  still  in  force  against  him,  he  en- 
tered the  vessel  (April,  1688)  at  night,  and  sailed  immediately 
for  London. 

On  arriving  at  London,  Mather  immediately  procured  an 
interview  with  James  II.,  and  made  a  statement  to  him  of 
the  grievances  of  the  colony.  James  promised  to  redress  them  ; 
but  the  promise  was  perhaps  a  mere  excuse  for  delay,  originat- 
ing in  the  gloomy  prospects  which  then  disturbed  the  English 
monarch.  A  better  day  dawned  Avith  the  accession  of  William 
and  Mary.  Mather  was  received  favourably  by  the  new  sove- 
reigns; and  soon  after  all  the  New  England  colonies  petitioned 
for  the  restoration  of  their  charters.  The  situation  of  affairs 
on  the  continent  having  obliged  William  to  visit  Holland,  the 
consideration  of  these  petitions  was  postponed.  But  Mather 
and  the  other  colonial  agents  were  indefatigable  in  their  exer- 
tions for  liberty.  The  language  of  Mather,  during  an  inter- 
view with  William  on  the  29th  of  April,  1691,  is  worthy  of  pre- 
servation  by  the  side  of  the  writings  of  our  revolutionary  fa- 
thers and  the  stirring  appei-ls  of  the  Continental  Congress. 
"Your  subjects,"  Mather  exclaimed,  "have  been  willing  to 
venture  their  lives  to  enlarge  your  dominions.  The  expedition 
to  Canada  was  a  great  and  noble  undertaking.  May  it  please 
your  majesty,  in  your  great  wisdom,  also  to  consider  the  cir- 
cumstances of  that  people  as  you  have  considered  the  circum 
stances  of  England  and  Scotland.  In  New  England  they  dif- 
fer from  other  plantations ;  they  are  called  Congregational  and 
Presbyterian  ;  so  that  such  a  government  will  not  suit  with  the 
people  of  New  England,  as  may  be  proper  for  people  in  the 
other  plantations." 

x\t  length  the  new  charter  was  granted.  On  its  arrival,  the 
general  court  appointed  a  day  of  thanksgiving,  in  which  "his 
excellency,  the  governor,  and  the  Reverend  Mr.  Increase  Mather" 
were  particularly  distinguished.  But  Mather  still  found  ene- 
mies in  the  colony.  The  charter  had  been  granted  under  some 
restrictions.     These  were  resolutely  decried  by  some  influential 


INCRE.ISE    MATHER.  22it 

persons;  and,  as  is  usual  in  such  case,  a  large  portion  of  the 
blame  was  laid  upon  the  commissioners.  Some  of  Mather's  old 
friends  forsook  him  ;  and  his  letters  of  this  period  contain 
many  bitter  reflections  on  the  ingratitude  of  those  whom  he 
had  laboured  to  serve.  On  the  other  hand,  he  received  many 
testimonials  of  respect  from  honourable  sources.  His  London 
friends  were  numerous  and  respectable.  Lord  Somers  and 
other  noblemen  tendered  him  their  friendship ;  and,  as  a  minis- 
ter, he  was,  with  but  slight  exceptions,  universally  esteemed. 
The  history  of  his  controversies,  principally  concerning  state 
matters,  which  he  carried  on  at  this  time,  would  be  tedious. 
Sometimes  he  was  disposed  to  overrate  the  good  he  had  done; 
but  it  must  be  recorded  to  his  honour,  that  few,  at  that  age,  did 
as  much  as  he  did  for  colonial  liberty,  or  acted  with  purer 
motives. 

Dr.  Mather  has  usually  been  considered  as  the  father  of  the 
New  England  churches.  His  name  and  character,  together 
with  those  of  his  son,  were  long  regarded  with  the  highest 
veneration;  and  collections  of  his  writings,  together  with  me- 
moirs  of  his  life,  have  been  made  by  several  men,  some  of  them 
of  no  inconsiderable  talent.  At'  his  death,  August  28,  1723, 
aged  eighty-five,  discourses  were  delivered,  and  afterwards 
widely  circulated,  by  a  number  of  eloquent  men.  His  publica- 
tions w^ere  numerous.  In  an  octavo  volume,  entitled  "Remark- 
ables  ^n  the  Life  of  Dr.  Increase  Mather,"  eighty-five  are  enu- 
merated, besides  ''  the  learned  and  useful  prefaces  which  the 
publishers  of  many  books  obtained  from  him  as  a  beautifuJ 
porch  unto  them,  and  which  collected  would  make  a  considera- 
ble volume.  * 


224 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


COTTON   MATHER. 


OTTON  MATHER,  the  eldest  son  of  Dr. 
Increase  Mather,  inherited  his  father's  passion 
for  learning,  became,  as  his  father  had  been, 
the  most  distinguished  divine  then  in  New 
England,  and  is  considered  superior  to  In- 
crease in  knowledge  of  general  literature. 
In  his  mental  constitution  there  was  one  great 
defect :  although  both  his  memory  and  his  im- 
Lgination  were  powerful,  his  judgment  was  weak ; 
id  to  this  is  to  be  ascribed  most  of  the  errors  of 
his  life.  The  accounts  which  we  have  concerning 
his  actions  and  writings  are  much  more  confused  and 
Dntradictory  than  might  be  expected  from  the  dis- 
iguished  part  which  both  he  and  his  father  played  in 
events  of  our  earlier  history. 
Cotton  Mather  was  born  at  Boston  in  1622.  He  was 
educated  at  Harvard  College,  where  he  graduated  in  1678,  and 
in  May,  1684,  was  ordained  colleague  with  his  father.  His 
reputation  as  a  scholar  soon  attracted  the  notice  of  foreign 
universities.  That  of  Glasgow  created  him  doctor  of  divinity ; 
the  Royal  Society  of  London  elected  him  one  of  its  fellows.  He 
is  also  styled  a  fellow  of  Harvard  College,  and  was  twice  a 
candidate  for  the  presidential  chair.  At  the  first  time,  in  1707, 
he  was  defeated  through  the  influence  of  Governor  Dudley, 
who  persuaded  a  friend  to  accept  it ;  and  again,  in  1726,  by  the 
corporation.  On  this  occasion  the  people  were  favourable  to 
Mather;  and,  on  account  of  the  feeling  evinced  on  the  subject, 
two  prominent  men  to  whom  it  was  first  offered  declined. 
Mather  possessed  less  influence  in  public  afi'airs  than  his  father 
had ;  nor  was  he  so  much  revered  by  either  pastors  or  people. 
One  cause  of  this  was,  his  inclination  to  wit  and  levity.     His 


COTTON   MATHER.  22h 

yauity  was  a  little  too  great,  his  love  of  punning  greater  still , 
and  his  disposition,  or  rather  passion  for  social  merriment,  greater 
than  all.  His  book  knowledge  was  very  extensive,  yet  he  was 
ignorant  of  human  nature.  He  w^^ote  too  much  to  write  well. 
It  has  been  said  that  in  a  forenoon  he  could  read  a  folio  of 
several  hundred  pages,  and  then  write  a  sermon.  His  mind 
was  rather  intuitive  than  studious;  and  his  memory  was  so 
great  as  to  be  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  his  age.  Notwith- 
standing his  literary  studies  and  his  active  pursuits,  he  never 
neglected  his  parochial  duties  or  his  private  devotions. 

Dr.  Mather  died  February  13,  1728.  A  large  procession 
followed  his  remains  to  the  grave.  "After  his  relatives,  pro- 
ceeded the  lieutenant-governor,  Mr.  Dummer,  his  majesty's 
council  and  house  of  representatives,  a  large  train  of  ministers, 
justices,  merchants,  scholars,  and  other  principal  inhabitants  both 
of  men  and  women.  The  streets  were  crowded  Avith  people,  and 
the  windows  filled  with  sorrow^ful  spectators  all  the  way  to  the 
burying-place."  The  obituary  of  the  Boston  Newsletter  de- 
scribes him  as  "tlie  principal  ornament  of  his  country,  and  the 
greatest  scholar  that  was  ever  bred  in  it.  Besides  his  universal 
learning,  his  exalted  piety  and  extensive  charity,  his  entertaining 
wit  and  singular  goodness  of  temper,  recommended  him  to  all 
who  were  judges  of  real  and  distinguished  merit."  Mather 
how^ever  was  not  without  his  enemies,  some  of  whom  loaded 
him  with  the  keenest  and  coarsest  abuse.  His  works  number 
three  hundred  and  eighty-two — tracts,  histories,  biographical 
sketches,  &c.  In  one  year  he  preached  seventy-two  sermons, 
kept  sixty  fasts  and  twenty  vigils,  and  wrote  fourteen  books. 
His  principal  work  is  an  Ecclesiastical  History  of  New  England, 
from  1625  to  1698,  in  seven  books  folio.  Each  of  his  writings 
is  a  most  singular  mixture  of  benevolence,  piety,  erudition,  his- 
tory, criticism,  credulity,  pedantry,  and  eccentricity.  He  was 
long  considered  the  greatest  scholar  that  New  England  had 
produced. 


29 


(26 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JOHN  BUNYAN 


AS  born  in  the  village  of  Elstow,  near  Bed- 
ford, in  1628.  His  father  was  a  poor  tinker; 
but  he  managed  to  place  his  son  at  the  vil- 
lage school,  where  he  learned  to  read  and 
write.  When  quite  young,  he  was  thrown 
among  the  vulgar  and  profane,  and  soon,  as 
he  himself  informs  us  in  his  Grace  Abound- 
ing, became  the  ringleader  in  all  manner  of 
lying,  vice,  and  ungodliness.  Yet,  at  the  early 
age  of  ten  or  twelve  years,  an  inward  monitor 
warned  him  of  the  consequences  of  sin  :  "  I  was 
)ften  much  cast  down  and  afflicted;  yea,  T  was 
often  then  so  overcome  with  despair  of  life  and  hea- 
ven, that  I  should  often  wish  either  that  there  had 
been  no  hell,  or  that  I  had  been  a  devil,  supposing 
that  they  were  only  tormentors ;  that  if  it  must  needs 
be  that  I  went  thither,  I  might  be  rather  a  tormentor  than  tor- 
mented myself."  Here  we  see  the  germ  of  that  powerful  ima- 
gination, excited  by  the  first  workings  of  conscience,  which 
Bunyan  subsequently  personified  by  the  man  with  a  heavy  bur- 
den on  his  back,  crying,  "  What  shall  I  do  ?"  As  he  became 
older,  his  conscience  hardened,  and  he  found  more  peace.  The 
desire  of  heaven  and  fear  of  hell  left  him  ;  he  mingled  in 
wicked  company;  he  was  wild,  boisterous,  reckless.  Yet  it 
would  be  unfair  to  consider  his  subsequent  denunciations  of  his 
life  at  this  early  period  as  proof  that  he  was  indeed  the  worst 
youth  in  his  neighbourhood,  or  of  his  age.  In  proportion  as 
Bunyan  became  humbled  by  the  grace  of  God,  he  magnified 
his  early  crimes  ;  and  he  must  be  ignorant  of  true  Christian 
feeling  while  under  conviction  for  sin,  to  suppose  that  Bunyan's 
confessions  in  the  Grace  Abounding  are  to  be  taken  literally 
as  a  comparison  of  himself  with  others.     He  was  no  drunkard, 


lOHN   BUNYAN.  227 

nor  did  his  worst  acts  at  that  time  bring  him  under  cognisance 
of  the  magistrate. 

When  seventeen,  Bunyan  entered  the  parliamentary  army. 
When  he  was  about  marching  to  the  siege  of  Leicester,  one  of 
the  company  volunteered  to  go  in  his  stead.  Bunyan  con- 
sented. The  man  was  shot  as  he  stood  sentinel ;  and  long  after, 
Bunyan  delighted  to  dwell  upon  this  interposition  of  Provi- 
dence in  his  behalf.  Soon  after  he  left  the  army;  and  at  the 
early  age  of  nineteen,  he  married.  The  financial  condition  of 
the  tinker  at  this  time  may  be  inferred  from  his  assertion,  that 
they  had  not  a  dish  or  a  spoon  between  them.  Yet  the  mar- 
riage was  undoubtedly  a  blessing.  His  wife's  dowry  was  two 
religious  books ;  these  Bunyan  sometimes  read  to  her,  and  the 
impression  upon  his  feelings  was  favourable.  He  became  regu- 
lar in  his  attendance  at  church,  and  learned  to  adore  the  "  high 
place,  priest,  clerk,  and  vestment ;"  but  he  did  not  abandon  the 
practice  of  swearing,  until  reproved  by  a  woman,  herself  bad, 
who  protested  that  his  oaths,  which  made  her  tremble,  were  ca- 
pable of  spoiling  all  the  youth  in  the  town.  Bunyan  was  put 
to  shame,  and  swore  no  more.  About  the  same  time,  he  was 
influenced  by  a  poor,  but  pious  man,  to  read  the  Bible,  the  re- 
sult of  which  was  an  outward  conversion,  which  astonished  all 
who  knew  him.  It  was  only  outward.  "  I  thought,"  he  says, 
<'no  man  in  England  could  serve  God  better  than  I." 

From  this  self-righteous  delusion,  Bunyan  was  awakened  by 
overhearing  a  conversation,  on  the  power  of  real  religion,  among 
some  poor  women,  who  belonged  to  a  Baptist  denomination  at 
Bedford.  He  also  formed  acquaintance  with  John  Gilford, 
whose  conversation  was  '<  sweet  and  pleasant  to  him."  He 
now  became  alarmed  as  to  his  condition  ;  he  earnestly  besought 
God  for  a  new  heart;  he  read  the  Bible  with  "new  eyes;"  and 
at  last  he  was  led  to  abandon  his  outward  religion  and  cast  him- 
self upon  the  mercy  of  God.  But  he  had  long  and  terrible 
conflicts  to  pass  through.  For  more  than  a  year,  he  was  "  tossed 
between  the  devil  and  his  own  ignorance,"  harassed  with  doubts 
about  Scripture,  conjectures  concerning  practical  religion,  and 
horrible  phantoms  of  his  imagination.  An  interview  with  the 
village  pastor  brought  no  relief;  and  for  a  long  period  Bunyan 
was  subject  to  those  fearful  temptations,  which  made  him  be- 
lieve that  he  saw  both  worlds  revealed  before  him — one  of  which. 


228  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

the  beautiful  one,  he  was  never  to  enjoy,  while  to  the  other  he  was 
rushing  headlong.  Just  as  he  was  beginning  to  emerge  from  this 
condition,  an  old  translation  of  Luther's  Commentary  on  the  Epis- 
tle to  the  Galatians  fell  into  his  hands.  In  this  he  found  his  re- 
ligious experience  so  "largely  and  profoundly  handled,"  that  it 
seemed  as  though  the  book  .had  been  ''  written  out  of  his  own 
heart."  He  ever  prized  it  next  to  the  Bible,  and  for  a  while  his 
spirit  received  consolation.  Then  came  a  dark  and  terrible  temp- 
tation. During  a  whole  year,  he  was  haunted  with  a  desire  to 
sell  Christ — "  to  exchange  him  for  the  things  of  this  life — for 
any  thing."  It  haunted  him  day  and  night;  it  was  Avhispered 
to  him,  as  he  walked  through  the  streets,  or  sat  at  table  ;  he 
trembled  and  wrestled,  and  cried  out  under  it,  as  his  own  Chris- 
tian did,  during  the  conjflict  with  Apollyon.  Bunyan  attributes 
this  temptation  to  the  immediate  agency  of  the  devil,  and  de- 
scribes the  assaults  to  which  he  was  exposed  from  the  enemy  of 
souls,  with  a  vividness  of  language  Avhich  sometimes  causes  the 
reader  to  shudder.  This  state  of  mind  led  him  to  search  the 
Scriptures  w^ith  more  diligence,  to  "see  more  into  the  nature 
of  the  promises."  But  so  violent  had  been  the  struggle,  that, 
on  escaping  from  it,  his  health  was  impaired,  and  he  began  to 
exhibit  symptoms  bordering  on  consumption.  But  peace  was 
gradually  restored  to  his  mind ;  and  with  it  health  returned. 

In  1653,  Bunyan  became  a  member  of  the  Baptist  church  in 
Bedford.  He  had  already  attracted  attention  ;  so  that  on  join- 
ing the  congregation,  he  was  employed  occasionally  in  exhort- 
ing or  teaching,  and  in  a  short  time  was  appointed  itinerant 
preacher.  In  1657,  he  was  indicted  for  preaching  at  Eaton  ; 
but  the  proceedings  against  him  appear  to  have  been  arrested. 
The  character  of  Bunyan's  preaching,  we  may  gather  from  his 
own  words  :  "  It  pleased  me  much,  to  contend  with  great  earn- 
estness for  the  word  of  faith,  and  the  remission  of  sins  by  the 
death  and  sufferings  of  Jesus ;  but  as  to  other  things,  I  would 
let  them  alone,  because  I  saw  they  engendered  strife."  How 
admirably,  in  these  words,  is  foreshadowed  the  spirit  which  per- 
vades the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  His  Christian  meekness  could 
not  screen  him,  however,  from  persecution.  In  that  age  of  bi- 
gotry and  of  wickedness,  John  Bunyan  was  regarded  as  a 
witch,  a  Jesuit,  a  highwayman,  a  libertine.  In  1660,  a  warrant 
was  issued  against  him,  and  after  being  brought  before  a  justice 


JOHN    BUNYAN.  229 

in  Bedfordshire,  he  was  offered  a  discharge  on  condition  of 
leaving  off  preaching.  On  refusing,  he  was  committed  to  jail. 
Seven  wrecks  after,  he  was  brought  before  judges  for  examina- 
tion ;  accusfd  of  neglecting  the  true  church,  and  being  pos- 
sessed with  the  devil ;  and,  without  either  trial  or  verdict  from 
jury,  sentenced  to  three  months'  imprisonment,  "  and  at  the 
three  months'  end,"  said  the  judge,  "  if  you  do  not  submit  to 
go  to  church  to  hear  divine  service,  and  leave  your  preaching, 
you  must  be  banished  the  realm ;  and  if  you  be  found  to  come 
over  again,  without  special  license  from  the  king,  you  must  be 
stretched  by  the  neck  for  it,  I  tell  you  plainly."  Bunyan  an- 
swered, that  if  he  were  out  of  prison  to-day,  he  would  preach 
the  gospel  again  to-morrow,  by  the  help  of  God.  On  the 
king's  coronation,  in  1661,  a  general  pardon  w^as  proclaimed  ; 
but  in  this  Bunyan  was  not  included.  His  wife  made  efforts  to 
obtain  his  release  before  Judges  Hale,  Twisden,  and  others  ; 
but  though  the  former  was  disposed  to  clemency,  he  was  over- 
ruled by  his  hardened  associates,  and  Bunyan  remained  in  jail. 
The  jailer  was,  however,  a  compassionate  man,  and  allowed  his 
prisoner  to  depart  occasionally  through  the  day,  on  promise  of 
returning  at  night.  These  opportunities  he  employed  in  preach- 
ing ;  but  of  this  his  persecutors  soon  obtained  information,  and 
the  jailer  was  notified  to  keep  him  close,  or  to  leave  his  situa- 
tion. It  is  believed  that  he  remained  a  close  prisoner  from 
1661  to  1668.  During  this  time,  he  laboured  at  making  little 
articles  for  the  support  of  his  family.  By  the  Act  of  Indul- 
gence to  Dissenters,  he  was  liberated  for  a  short  time ;  but 
again  incurring  the  persecution  of  the  hierarchy,  he  was  re- 
manded to  prison,  where  he  remained  until  1672.  It  was  du- 
ring this  long  period  of  confinement,  that  he  wrote  some  of  his 
most  celebrated  works — <'  Of  Prayer  by  the  Spirit,"  "  The 
Holy  City's  Resurrection,"  "Grace  Abounding,"  "A  De- 
fence of  the  Doctrine  of  Justification," — and  one  other,  ''  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  Part  I." 

Of  this  great  work — one  which  has  no  superior,  and  few 
equals  in  our  language — so  much  is  known  by  every  class  of 
readers,  that  it  were  superfluous  to  describe  or  analyze  it.  It 
is  dated  from  prison,  November  21,  1671,  but  the  date  of  the 
first  edition  is  unknown.  The  second  edition  was  issued  in 
1678,  after  which  one  edition  after  another  was  rapidly  called 


230  LIVES   OF    EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

for.     At  the  same  time  counterfeit  ones  appeared,  and  imita- 
tions, purporting  to  be  continuations.     It  was   probably  from 
these,  that   Bunyan    received  the    idea  of  writing    his  second 
part,  which  appeared  in  1684.     Long  before  this,  Bunyan  had 
obtained  his  release,  and  entered  upon  the  enjoyment  of  that 
long  season  of  almost  uninterrupted  happiness  with  which  his 
latter  days  were  blessed.     In  1672,  his  congregation  observed 
a  day  of  thanksgiving  on  account  of  his  release.     Shortly  after, 
the  voluntary  contributions  of  his  friends   enabled  him  to  build 
a  meeting-house.     Here    he    preached  to  large   congregations 
with   but  little  interruption.      Scholars  from  college   and  con- 
ceited churchmen  often  came  to  argue  with  him,  supposing  that 
he  was  but  an  ignorant   rustic ;  but  they  generally  went  away 
with  far  different  opinions.     In  London,  his  reputation  was  so 
great,  that,  says  one,   <'  if  but  a  day's  notice  were  given,  the 
meeting-house    in    Southwark,  where    he    generally    preached, 
would  not  hold  half  the  people  that  attended.     Three  thousand 
persons  have  been   gathered  together  for  the  purpose,  in  a  re- 
mote part  of  the  town  ;  and  no  fewer  than  twelve  hundred  on 
a  dark  winter's  morning,  at  seven  o'clock,  even  on  week  days." 
The  Baptist  congregation  at  Hitchin,  in  Hertfordshire,  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been  founded  by  him.     In  a  wood,  near  Preston, 
he   frequently  preached   to  a  thousand  people  ;  and   five  miles 
from    Hitchin  was  a  malt-house,  in  which   he  sometimes    ad- 
dressed large  congregations,  and  whose  pulpit  was  carefully  re- 
moved as  an   honoured   relic,  when,  in  1787,  the   meeting  was 
transferred  to  Coleman's  Green.     So   eager  was  he  to  dispense 
the  word  of  life,  that  it  is  affirmed,  on  good  authority,  he  some- 
times passed  at   midnight  through  the   town  of  Reading,  dis- 
guised as  a  carter,  Avith  whip  in  hand,  until  he   arrived  at  the 
secret  meetings  of  his  friends.     The  house  in  which  the  Bap- 
tists met   for  worship  stood   in  a  lane ;  a  bridge  was  thrown 
from  the  back  door  across  a  branch  of  the  Kennett,  by  which, 
in  case  of  alarm,  they  might  escape.     It  was  while  visiting  this 
place,  that  Bunyan  contracted  the  disease  which  terminated  his 
life.     A  young   man,  having  incurred  his  father's  displeasure, 
was    threatened   with    loss  of  his    inheritance.      He    implored 
Bunyan  to    act  as   his   mediator.     Bunyan    complied,  and  was 
successful ;  but  his  kindness  to  another  proved  fatal  to  himself 
While  returning  to  London  on  horseback,  he  was  overtaken  wit^^ 


JOHN   BUNYAN.  i>31 

heavy  rains,  which  brought  on  cold,  and  a  fever.  Thu  violence 
of  the  attack  baffled  his  physician's  skill ;  and  ten  days  after, 
August  12,  1688,  he  died  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Stradwick,  a 
grocer  on  Snowhill.  He  was  buried  at  Bunhill  Fields,  where  a 
tomb  has  since  been  erected  to  his  memory. 

Bunyan  is  described  as  being  in  "  countenance  of  a  stern 
and  rough  temper,"  but  in  his  conversation  mild  and  affa- 
ble, "  not  given  to  loquacity  or  much  discourse  in  company, 
unless  some  urgent  occasion  required  it ;  observing  never  to 
boast  of  himself  or  his  parts,  but  rather  to  seem  low  in  his  own 
eyes,  and  submit  himself  to  the  judgment  of  others,  loving  to 
reconcile  differences  and  make  friendship  with  all.  He  had  a 
sharp,  quick  eye,  accompanied  with  an  excellent  discerning  of 
persons,  being  of  good  judgment  and  quick  wit.  As  for  his 
person,  he  was  tall  of  stature,  strong  boned,  though  not  corpu- 
lent ;  somewhat  of  a  ruddy  face,  with  sparkling  eyes ;  wearing 
his  hair  on  his  upper  lip,  after  the  old  British  fashion ;  his  hair 
reddish,  but,  in  his  latter  days,  time  had  sprinkled  it  with  gray ; 
his  nose  well  set,  but  not  declining  or  bending,  and  his  moutli 
moderately  large ;  his  forehead  somewhat  high ;  and  his  habit 
always  plain  and  modest."  Bunyan  married  twice,  and  had  many 
children,  only  four  of  whom  survived  him.  His  works  are  numer- 
ous, and  as  an  instructor  of  the  people  he  deserves  to  rank  among 
the  most  powerful  writers  of  his  age.  Perhaps,  his  most  im- 
portant work,  next  to  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  and  Grace  Abound- 
ing, is  The  Holy  War,  an  allegory  in  which  he  describes  the 
conflict  between  God  and  Satan  for  the  town  of  Mansoul. 
His  great  allegory  has  been  translated  into  nearly  all  the  lan- 
guages of  Europe,  and  of  countries  much  frequented  by  Euro- 
peans, and  is  adopted  as  a  standard  church-book  by  the  various 
denominations  of  Protestants,  as  well  as  by  Roman  Catholics. 
It  is  in  an  especial  degree  the  book  of  the  common  people  ; 
and,  with  the  Bible,  and  a  volume  of  Hymns  or  the  Prayer 
Book,  forms  a  fountain  of  pure  English,  for  which  it  were  vain 
to  look  elsewhere  in  the  same  number  of  pages. 


232 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CillllSTIANS. 


EICHARD   BAXTER. 


AXTER,  the  renowned  nonconformist  divine, 
was  born  at  Rowdon,  a  small  village  in  Shrop- 
shire, on  the  12th  November,  1615.  He  re- 
sided until  1625  at  Eaton  Constantine's,  five 
miles  from  Shrewsbmy.  The  contiguity  of 
his  birth-place  to  the  seat  of  Lord  Newport 
was  probably  the  means  of  introducing  him  to 
the  notice  of  that  nobleman.  His  father's  little 
property  was  so  much  encumbered  as  to  prevent 
him  from  giving  his  son  any  education  beyond  what 
could  be  obtained  from  the  .village  schoolmasters, 
who  were  neither  competent  teachers  nor  moral  men. 
To  Mr.  John  Owen,  who  kept  the-  free  grammar 
school  at  Wroxeter,  Baxter  acknowledges  some  obli- 
gations. Though  he  was  at  the  head  of  the  school,  his 
attainments  were  very  inconsiderable  when  he  left  it. 
His  ambition  was  to  enter  one  of  the  universities,  to  qualify 
himself  for  the  ministry.  Mr.  Owen,  his  master,  probably 
perceiving  that  he  required  more  regular  instruction  than  he 
could  expect  to  receive  from  a  college  tutor,  recommended  him 
to  Mr.  Richard  Wickstead,  chaplain  to  the  council  at  Ludlow, 
who  had  an  allowance  from  government  for  a  divinity  student. 
Though  the  defects  of  his  previous  education  were  but  ill  sup- 
plied by  this  arrangement,  his  tutor  being  negligent,  it  gave 
him  access  to  a  good  library,  where  he  acquired  a  taste  for 
those  studies  which  he  pursued  with  such  indefatigable  industry 
in  after-life.  Here  he  continued  one  year  and  a  half,  when  he 
returned  to  his  father's  house,  and  supplied  for  a  few  months 
the  place  of  his  old  master  at  Wroxeter  grammar  school. 
Finding  his  hopes  of  going  to  the  university  disappointed,  he 
resumed  his  professional  studies  under  Mr.  Francis  Garbet,  a 
clergyman  of   some  celebrity,  who  conducted  him   through  a 


RICHARD  BAXTER.  233 

course  of  theology,  and  gave  him  much  valuable  assistance  in 
his  general  reading.  While  he  was  thus  engaged,  he  was  sud- 
denly diverted  from  his  pursuits  by  a  proposition  from  his  friend, 
Mr.  Wickstead,  to  try  his  fortune  at  the  court  of  his  sovereign, 
Charles  I.  The  project,  singular  as  it  was,  seems  not  to  have 
been  unpalatable  either  to  his  father  or  the  future  Puritan  divine. 
Theology  was  thrown  aside,  and  Baxter  went  to  Whitehall,  spe- 
cially introduced  to  Sir  Henry  Herbert,  master  of  the  revels, 
as  an  aspirant  to  royal  favour.  His  reception  was  courteous, 
nay  even  kind.  For  one  month  he  mingled  in  the  festivities 
of  the  palace, — a  period  which  was  sufficient  to  convince  him 
of  the  unsuitableness  of  such  a  mode  of  life  to  his  tastes,  his 
habits,  and  his  conscience, — he  then  returned  home,  and  re- 
sumed his  studies  with  a  firm  determination  never  again  to  be 
diverted  from  them.  Before  he  went  to  London,  his  religious 
impressions  were  deepened  by  the  perusal  of  Bunny's  Resolu- 
tion^ Sibb's  Bruised  Meed,  and  other  works  of  the  same  kind. 
Some  books  which  he  read  after  his  return  increased  that 
habitual  seriousness  natural  to  him,  and  which  was  probably 
strengthened  by  the  example  of  his  father.  A  protracted  ill- 
ness, probably,  under  which  he  now  suffered,  completed  the 
preparation  of  his  mind  for  the  reception  of  those  impressions 
of  religious  duty  under  which  he  acted  during  the  remainder 
of  his  life. 

While  he  was  in  this  declining  state  of  health,  his  anxiety  tc 
commence  his  ministerial  labours  overcame  every  other  con- 
sideration. He  applied  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester  for  ordina- 
tion, and  obtained  it,  together  with  a  schoolmaster's  license,  for 
he  had  accepted  the  mastership  of  the  free  grammar  school  at 
Dudley,  just  tnen  founded  by  his  friend,  Mr.  Foley,  of  Stour- 
bridge. He  was  now  twenty-three  years  of  age,  and  as  yet 
entertained  no  scruples  on  the  subject  of  conformity,  not  hav- 
ing examined  with  any  nicety  the  grounds  of  subscription. 
His  attention  was  soon  draAvn  to  the  debatable  points  of  the 
controversy  ;  at  first  the  bitter  tone  of  the  nonconformists  gave 
him  an  unfavourable  impression  of  their  character,  although  he 
admired  their  fervent  piety  and  their  energetic  efforts  to  stem 
the  moral  corruptions  of  their  times. 

At  the  end  of  nine  months,  Baxter  removed  from  Dudley  to 
Bridgenorth,  where  he  acted  as  assistant  to  the  clergyman. 
80  D  2 


«{a4  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

This  release  from  school  engagements  must,  to  a  mind  such  as 
Baxter's,  intent  upon  pastoral  duties,  have  appeared  a  sufficient 
inducement  for  the  change ;  but  in  the  then  state  of  his  mind, 
it  was  of  still  greater  moment  to  him  to  be  relieved  from  the 
prospect  of  having  to  renew  his  subscription.  Here  he  expected 
to  perform  the  humble  duties  of  a  curate  without  obstruction. 
But  his  hopes  were  soon  frustrated  by  the  ^'et  cetera  oath^'"  as 
it  was  called,  by  which  all  who  had  taken  orders  were  called 
upon  to  swear  never  to  consent  to  any  alteration  in  the  cere- 
monial, or  government  of  the  church  by  archbishops,  bishops, 
deans,  archdeacons,  &c.  It  does  not  appear  that  Baxter  thought 
it  necessary  to  observe  the  terms  of  this  oath,  for  a  complaint 
was  laid  against  him  for  noncompliance  with  the  ritual  in 
various  particulars. 

Baxter  left  Bridgenorth  in  1640,  on  an  invitation  of  the 
parishioners  of  Kidderminster  to  become  the  officiating  minister 
at  their  parish  church.  The  circumstances  under  which  he 
settled  at  Kidderminster  were  favourable  to  his  views ;  but  it 
Avas  not  without  considerable  opposition  from  one  portion  of  the 
community,  whose  vices  he  publicly  reproved,  that  he  carried 
some  of  his  reforms  into  effect.  Not  satisfied  with  correcting 
the  more  flagrant  offences  of  the  inhabitants,  he  visited  them 
at  their  houses,  became  acquainted  with  their  families,  gave 
them  religious  instruction  in  private,  and  became  their  friend 
as  well  as  their  pastor.  Though  a  strict  disciplinarian,  he  won 
the  hearts  of  all,  except  a  few  who  were  irreclaimable.  His 
preaching  was  acceptable  to  all  ranks.  Wherever  he  went, 
large  audiences  attended  him;  and  his  energy  was  so  unreraU- 
ting,  that  notwithstanding  his  feeble  health,  he  preached  three 
or  four  times  in  the  week. 

Dui'ing  the  civil  wars,  which  at  the  time  prevailed,  Baxtei' 
held  a  position  by  which  he  was  connected  with  both  the  oppo- 
site parties  in  the  state,  and  yet  was  the  partisan  of  neither. 
His  'ittachment  to  monarchy  was  well  known,  though  his  ad- 
herence to  the  royalist  party  was  not  so  certain :  for  the  deep 
stream  of  his  religious  feelings  drew  his  sympathies  to  the  par- 
liamentarians, whose  every-day  conversations  were  imbued  with 
the  same  feeling.  The  undisguised  respect  paid  by  him  to  the 
characters  of  some  of  the  parliamentarians  made  him,  with 
otliers,  the  object  of  jealousy  and  persecution.     A  clamour  was 


RICHARD   BAXTER.  235 

raised  against  him,  and  the  rabble,  whose  excesses  had  been 
checked  by  him,  were  eager  to  become  the  trumpeters  of  the 
charge.  During  one  of  these  ebullitions  of  party  excitement, 
he  spent  a  few  days  among  the  parliamentary  army,  and  was 
preaching  within  sound  of  the  cannon  while  the  battle  was 
fought  at  Edgehill.  His  friends  did  not  consider  it  safe  for 
him  to  return  to  Kidderminster,  and  he  retired  to  Coventry, 
where  he  resided  two  years,  preaching  regularly  to  the  parlia- 
mentary garrison  and  to  the  inhabitants.  After  the  battle  of 
Naseby,  in  1645,  he  passed  a  night  on  a  visit  to  some  friends, 
in  Cromwell's  army,  and  was  offered  the  chaplaincy  of  CoL 
Whalley's  regiment,  which,  after  consulting  his  Coventry  friends, 
he  accepted.  In  this  capacity  he  was  present  at  the  capture  of 
Bridgewater,  and  the  sieges  of  Exeter,  Bristol,  and  Worcester. 
He  lost  no  opportunity  of  moderating  the  temper  of  the  champions 
of  the  commonwealth,  and  of  restraining  them  within  the  bounds 
of  reason ;  but  as  it  was  known  that  the  check  proceeded  from 
one  who  was  unfriendly  to  the  ulterior  objects  of  the  party,  his 
interference  w^as  coolly  received.  Among  the  soldiers  he 
laboured  with  unceasing  zeal  to  diffuse  a  better  spirit,  and  to 
correct  those  sectarian  errors,  as  he  considered  them — anabap- 
tism,  antinomianism,  and  separatism  inclusive — which,  in  his 
view,  were  so  productive  of  disputes  and  animosity. 

Illness  compelled  him  to  leave  the  army.  After  his  recovery, 
he  was  to  be  found  again  at  Kidderminster,  exerting  himself, 
with  renewed  vigour,  to  moderate  conflicting  opinions.  At  this 
time  the  class  of  men  of  whom  Baxter  may  be  said  to  be  the 
type,  were  much  perplexed  by  the  conduct  of  Cromwell.  For 
the  sake  of  peace,  however,  they  submitted  to  an  authority 
which  they  deemed  a  usurpation ;  but  nothing  could  purchase 
their  approbation  of  the  means  by  which  it  had  been  attained, 
or  by  which  it  was  supported.  In  open  conference,  Baxter  did 
not  scruple  to  denounce  Cromwell  and  his  adherents  as  guilty 
of  treason  and  rebellion,  though  he  afterwards  doubted  if  he 
was  right  in  so  strongly  opposing  him.  The  reputation  of 
Baxter  was  so  great,  that  his  countenance  to  the  new  order  of 
things  was  highly  desirable,  and  no  pains  were  spared  to  obtain 
it.  At  the  persuasion  of  some  of  his  noble  friends,  he  o?ice 
preached  before  the  Protector,  who  afterwards  invited  him  to 
in  interview,  and  endeavoured  to  reconcile  him  to  the  political 


236  LIVES    OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

changes  that  had  taken  phice ;  but  the  preacher  was  not  con- 
vinced by  his  arguments,  and  boldly  told  him  that  "the  honest 
people  of  the  land  took  their  ancient  monarchy  to  be  a  blessing, 
not  an  evil."  The  necessity  of  any  alteration  in  the  govern- 
ment did  not  come  within  the  scope  of  his  view.  He  looked 
with  a  single  eye  to  the  diffusion  of  a  deeper  spirit  of  religion 
by  means  of  a  purified  church,  beyond  which  he  was  not  capable 
of  carrying  his  views  or  lending  his  sanction. 

In  the  disputes  which  prevailed  about  this  time  on  the  subject 
of  episcopal  ordination,  Baxter  took  the  side  of  the  Presby- 
terians in  denying  its  necessity.  With  them  he  agreed,  also, 
in  matters  of  church  government  and  discipline.  He  dissented 
from  them  in  their  condemnation  of  episcopacy  as  unlawful. 
On  this  great  principle,  namely,  the  sufficiency  of  the  Scriptures 
to  determine  all  points  of  faith  and  conduct,  he  wavered  for 
some  time ;  but  ultimately  adopted  it  in  its  full  extent.  Occu- 
pying middle  ground,  as  he  did,  between  Episcopalians  and 
Presbyterians,  it  was  not  very  obvious  with  which  of  the  two 
parties  he  was  to  be  classed.  Had  all  impositions  and  restraints 
been  removed,  there  is  strong  reason  to  believe  he  would  have 
preferred  a  moderate  episcopacy  to  any  other  form  of  church 
government ;  but  the  measures  of  the  prelatical  party  were  so 
grievous  to  the  conscience,  that  he  had  no  choice  between  sacri- 
ficing his  opinions  or  quitting  their  communion.  The  views 
maintained  by  Baxter,  blended  as  they  were  with  the  principles 
of  monarchy,  made  them  very  popular  towards  the  close  of 
Cromwell's  career,  when  men  were  beginning  to  find  that  they 
had  only  exchanged  one  tyranny  for  another,  and  as  some  thought 
for  a  worse.  In  the  sermon  which  Baxter  preached  before  the 
parliament  the  day  before  they  voted  the  return  of  the  king,  he 
spoke  his  sentiments  on  this  subject  with  manly  resolution,  and 
maintained,  in  allusion  to  the  political  state  of  the  country,  that 
loyalty  to  their  king  was  essential  to  all  true  Protestants  of 
every  persuasion. 

It  was  expected  that,  on  the  restoration  of  the  king,  modera- 
tion would  have  prevailed  in  the  councils  of  the  nation,  and  that 
a  conciliatory  policy  would  be  adopted  with  regard  to  religious 
opinions.  Some  indications  of  such  a  spirit  appeared  in  the 
appointment  of  Presbyterian  divines  among  the  king's  chaplains, 
ai)d  Baxter  along  with  the  rest.     Many  who  had  access  to  the 


RICHARD   BAXTER.  237 

king  urged  conciliation,  and  for  some  time  their  advice  prevailed 
against  the  intrigues  of  court  influence.  Among  other  measures, 
a  conference  was  appointed,  consisting  of  a  certain  number  of 
Episcopalian  and  Presbyterian  divines,  to  devise  a  form  of  eccle- 
siastical government  which  might  reconcile  the  differences  and 
satisfy  the  scruples  of  the  contending  parties.  Baxter  and  the 
Presbyterians  were  extremely  desirous  of  bringing  this  confer- 
ence to  a  satisfactory  conclusion ;  and  Baxter  himself  drew  up 
a  reformed  liturgy,  which,  with  some  alterations,  he  presented 
at  the  conference.  The  Presbyterians  would  have  accepted 
Bishop  Usher's  scheme  as  a  model,  with  any  alterations  which 
might  be  mutually  agreed  on ;  but  the  bishops  were  secretly 
opposed  to  the  arrangement,  and  finally  frustrated  it  by  carry-- 
ing  a  declaration  to  the  effect  that,  although  all  were  agreed 
upon  the  ends  contemplated  in  the  commission,  they  disagreed 
upon  the  means.  Now  began  an  exercise  of  power  by  the 
bishops ;  having  defeated  the  object  of  the  conference,  they 
next  sequestrated  the  livings  of  all  ministers  who  had  been 
inducted  during  the  protectorate.  They  then  called  for  oaths 
and  subscriptions,  which  had  been  suspended  while  there  was  an 
appearance  of  agreeing  at  the  conference.  In  accordance  with 
this  demand,  a  law  was  passed  in  1662,  called  the  Act  of  Uni- 
formity, so  strict  in  its  requirements  upon  the  debatable  points 
of  ceremonial  worship,  that  it  had  the  effect  of  banishing  at 
once  two  thousand  ministers  from  the  pale  of  the  English  church. 
Of  this  number  was  Baxter.  Previous  to  the  passing  of  this 
measure,  he  had  refused  the  bishopric  of  Hereford,  and  other 
preferments  offered  to  him  by  Lord  Clarendon,  the  chancel- 
lor, asking  only  one  favour  in  lieu  of  them — to  be  allowed  to 
return  to  Kidderminster :  he  even  oJBfered  to  perform  the  pas- 
toral duties  without  remuneration ;  but  this  modest  request  was 
refused. 

On  the  25th  of  May,  1662,  three  months  before  the  day  on 
which  the  Bartholomew  act,  as  the  Act  of  Uniformity  was  called, 
from  its  coming  into  operation  on  St.  Bartholomew's  day,  Bax- 
ter preached  his  last  sermon  in  London,  under  a  regular  engage- 
ment in  the  church ;  and  finding  his  public  duties  at  an  end,  he 
retired,  in  July,  1663,  to  Acton,  in  Middlesex,  where  he  em- 
ployed the  greater  part  of  his  time  in  writing  for  the  press. 
Some  of  his  larger  works  were  the  fruit  of  this  seclusion.     Hia 


238  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 

two  most  popular  treatises,  '<The  Saints'  Everlasting  Rest"  and 
'<A  Call  to  the  Unconverted,"  were  published  before  he  left 
Kidderminster,  and  raised  his  fame  as  a  writer  to  a  higher  pitch 
than  that  which  he  had  enjoyed  as  a  preacher.  Several  attempts 
were  made  by  the  ejected  ministers  and  their  friends  in  parlia- 
ment to  get  the  rigorous  restrictions  against  them  removed,  l)ut 
without  success.  The  persecutions  continued  with  unabated 
force.  Even  those  who,  like  Baxter,  disliked  separation,  and 
attended  the  worship  of  the  church,  suffered  penalties  for  having 
morning  and  evening  prayers  in  their  houses.  It  was  in  the 
midst  of  these  persecutions  that  the  two  awful  calamities,  the 
fire  and  the  plague,  occurred  in  two  successive  years,  and  dur- 
ing the  misery  caused  by  these  two  visitations,  the  services  of 
the  Puritan  divines  were  so  conspicuous,  that  the  tide  of  opinion 
turned  in  their  favour,  and  led  to  new  efforts  in  their  behalf, 
which  ended  for  the  time  in  the  indulgence  granted  in  1672. 
This  drew  Baxter  from  his  retirement  at  Totteridge,  to  which 
place  he  had  removed  on  the  suppression  of  his  ministry  at 
Acton.  He  now  settled  in  London,  and  preached  again  as  a 
lecturer  in  different  parts  of  the  city,  but  more  constantly  at 
Pinner's  Hall  and  Fetter  Lane.  His  preaching,  although  highly 
acceptable  to  his  more  immediate  friends,  was  never  so  popular 
as  it  had  been  at  Kidderminster.  While  he  advocated  tolera- 
tion from  an  intolerant  communion,  he  shone  like  a  light  in  a 
dark  place ;  but  now  that  he  was  an  apologist  of  conformity 
while  he  was  a  sufferer  for  nonconformity,  his  conduct  involved 
a  kind  of  consistency  too  refined  for  public  admiration.  An 
ineffectual  attempt  which  he  now  made  to  combine  the  Pro- 
testant interests  against  Papal  ascendency  exposed  him  to  vari- 
ous misrepresentations,  to  remove  which,  he  published  a  vindi- 
cation of  himself,  entitled  <'  An  Appeal  to  the  Light,"  but  he 
did  not  eradicate  the  unfavourable  impressions. 

His  time  was  now  divided  between  preaching  and  writing. 
For  a  while,  he  had  a  regular  audience  in  a  room  over  St.  James's 
Market-house,  and  at  other  places  in  London.  But  his  public 
duties  were  frequently  suspended  by  those  rigorous  enactments 
to  which  nonconformists  were  subjected  during  the  last  two 
reigns  of  the  Stuarts. 

In  1682,  the  officers  of  the  law  burst  into  his  house,  at  a  time 
when  he  laboured  under  severe  indisposition,  with  a  warrant  to 


RICHARD  BAXTER.  239 

seize  his  person  for  coming  within  five  miles  of  a  corporate  town, 
and  would  have  hurried  him  before  a  magistrate,  had  they  not 
been  met  by  a  physician,  whose  interference  probably  saved  his 
life,  as  well  as  obtained  his  pardon.  Two  years  later,  while  his 
health  was  still  in  a  precarious  state  from  a  chronic  disease,  he 
was  again  harassed  by  distraint  and  penal  proceedings.  Still 
later,  it  was  his  misfortune  to  be  one  of  the  many  victims  of 
the  bloody  and  brutal  Judge  Jeffreys,  whose  language  and  inhu- 
man conduct  to  this  pure-minded  man  is  so  graphically  described 
by  Macaulay.  He  was  apprehended,  on  a  chief  justice  warrant, 
on  a  charge  of  sedition,  and  of  being  opposed  to  episcopacy. 
This  took  place  in  1685.  The  charge  was  founded  on  some 
passages  in  his  ^^  Paraphrase  of  the  New  Testament."  On  the 
trial,  Jeffreys,  not  content  with  using  language  the  most  oppro- 
brious to  the  prisoner  and  his  counsel,  acted  the  part  of  prose- 
cutor as  well  as  judge,  and  scrupled  not  to  gain  his  ends  by 
silencing  the  accused,  by  insulting  his  counsel,  by  refusing  to 
hear  his  witnesses,  and  by  triumphing  over  his  sentence.  He 
said  upon  the  bench  "  he  was  sorry  that  the  act  of  indemnity 
disabled  him  from  hanging  him."  His  punishment  was  a  fine 
of  five  hundred  marks,  to  lie  in  prison  till  it  was  paid,  and  to 
be  bound  to  his  good  behaviour  for  seven  years.  For  the  non- 
payment of  this  fine,  he  was  committed  to  the  King's  Bench 
prison,  where  he  lay  until  November  in  the  following  year, 
having  been  confined  about  eighteen  months.  His  pardon  was 
obtained  by  the  mediation  of  Lord  Powis,  and  the  fine  was 
remitted.  The  solitude  of  his  prison  was  enlivened  on  this,  as 
on  former  occasions  of  trouble  and  privations,  by  the  affection- 
ate attentions  of  his  wife.  Baxter  lived  to  see  that  favourable 
change  in  reference  to  religious  toleration  v/hich  commenced  at 
the  Revolution  in  1688.  He  died  on  the  8th  of  December,  1691, 
and  was  buried  in  Christ  Church. 

Distinguished  highly  as  this  eminent  man  was  as  a  divine,  he 
was  not  less  distinguished  by  his  literary  attainments.  His 
practical  and  political  divinity  was  produced  with  a  rapidity 
almost  unequalled.  The  catalogue  of  his  works  contains  one 
hundred  and  sixty-eight  distinct  publications.  His  writings, 
for*tv  0  or  three  succeeding  generations,  were  text-books  with  a 
numerous  body  of  Christians.  In  private  life,  his  conduct  has 
never  been  impeached.     Co'Tect  and  amiable  in  his  deportment, 


240  LIVES   OF    EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

he  was  honoured  by  some  who  held  high  places  in  his  country. 
The  pious,  virtuous,  and  able  lawyer,  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  was 
one  of  his  ardent  friends.  Bishop  Wilkins  praised  him  by  the 
words,  ''he  has  cultivated  every  subject  he  has  handled;"  and 
the  well-known  and  able  Dr.  Isaac  Barrow  said  of  his  Avritinga^ 
that  "  his  practical  works  were  never  mended,  and  his  contro- 
versial ones  seldom  confuted." 

It  is  lamentable  to  know  that  such  a  man  was  driven  from 
his  church  by  the  laws  of  his  native  land ;  so  it  must  be  when 
it  is  thought  to  be  necessary  to  fence  in  a  church  by  human 
means.  The  fate  of  Baxter,  reduced  almost  to  want,  confined 
to  a  prison,  is  a  striking  proof  of  the  bad  effect  of  .laws  supposed 
to  be  necessary  to  maintain  an  established  religion  in  a  country. 
Thus  when  the  papal  supremacy  was  destroyed  in  England,  an- 
other supremacy  was  erected  in  its  place ;  and  it  behooves  all 
friends  of  religious  liberty  to  do  honour  to  those  who  have  pre- 
ceded us  in  human  progression,  and  who  have  sacrificed  either 
life,  liberty,  wealth,  or  honour  in  support  of  this  great  principle — 
the  birthright  of  man.  Such  a  man  was  Baxter.  In  England, 
where  the  progress  of  civil  liberty  has  been  often  checked, 
although  always  progressive,  there  has  been,  and  still  is,  a  con- 
tinued struggle  for  the  right  to  worship  the  Creator  in  the  mode 
in  accordance  with  the  opinions  and  feelings  of  individuals :  the 
struggle  has  been  fierce,  unceasing,  and  bitter.  The  history 
of  the  nonconformists  carries  the  inquirer  back  to  the  reign  of 
Edward  VI. ;  for  although  the  Reformation  was  effected  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  yet  it  cannot  be  said  that  the  Church  of 
England  received  a  definite  constitution  until  the  reign  of 
Edward,  his  son  and  successor.  The  temporary  restoration  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  ascendency,  under  Philip  and  Mary,  drove 
the  persecuted  disciples  of  the  reformed  faith  to  France,  Swit- 
zerland, and  other  countries.  When  Elizabeth  ascended  the 
throne,  they  returned  with  strong  desires  to  purify  King  Edward  s 
church  still  further  ;  however,  the  queen  would  not  consent,  and 
it  was  in  her  reign  that  uniformity  in  worship  was  first  enforced 
by  act  of  parliament.  No  worship  was  to  be  permitted  except 
as  prescribed  in  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer.  This  act  was 
only  partially  carried  into  effect  from  1558,  when  it  was  passed, 
until  the  year  1565,  when  it  was  rigidly  enforced.  Many 
ministers  were  deprived  of  their  livings,  and  many  were  impri- 


EICHAKD   BAXTER.  241 

soned.  The  severity  increased  until  the  year  1593,  when  the 
parliament  declared  that  all  persons  above  sixteen  years  of 
age  who  absented  themselves  for  one  month  from  church,  should 
be  banished  the  kingdom.  In  the  succeeding  reign  of  James, 
in  the  year  1604,  the  Book  of  Canons  was  passed  by  a  convo- 
cation. It  denounced  severe  temporal  and  spiritu;il  penalties 
against  Puritan  divines,  and  was  followed  up  by  unsparing  per- 
secutions. Charles  I.  adopted  tOAvards  nonconformists  the 
policy  of  his  father.  It  was  the  great  severity  now  practised 
towards  the  Puritans  that  first  produced  the  ineffectual  attempt 
to  settle  Massachusetts  by  self-banishment.  Hundreds  of  cler- 
gymen were  ejected  for  their  opposition  to  the  Book  of  Sports 
published  by  James  I.,  and  which  Laud  was  now  enforcing.  But 
the  cord  had  been  drawn  too  tight.  Laud  was  beheaded,  and 
the  monarch  himself  lost  his  life  in  the  same  cause.  Unhappil}', 
the  patriots  of  those  times  forgot,  when  in  power,  the  principle 
^or  which  they  had  been  struggling.  Reaction  ensued.  Charles  II. 
was  ]'estored  without  one  single  stipulation  to  insure  the  observ- 
ance of  the  principles  of  liberty ;  and  tyranny  and  persecution 
reigned  triumphant.  In  1662,  an  Act  of  Uniformity  was  passed, 
the  effect  of  which  has  been  shown  in  this  memoir.  It  was  in 
this  reign  that  the  Five  Mile  Act  was  passed,  which  banished  to 
that  distance,  from  every  corporate  town  in  the  kingdom,  the 
nonconformist  ministers,  and  forbade  them  to  act  as  schoolmas- 
ters. The  Conventicle  Act  also  was  passed,  which  subjected  all 
who  should  presume  to  worship  God  otherwise  than  as  the  law 
enjoined,  to  fine  and  imprisonment,  and  punished  the  third 
offence  with  banishment.  The  Test  Act  was  another  of  these 
barbarous  laws.  By  this  law  no  Englishman  could  hold  any 
appointment,  even  that  of  a  constable,  without  first  partaking 
of  the  Lord's  supper  in  a  church  of  the  establishment.  Thus 
matters  remained  until  the  Revolution  of  1688,  when  the  Tole- 
ration Act  gave  immunity  to  all  Protestant  dissenters,  except 
L'^nitarians ;  this  sect  was  placed  in  the  same  condition  with 
other  dissenters  only  within  the  last  thirty  years.  Religious 
liberty  made  little  or  no  progress  from  the  period  of  1688  unti^ 
1828,  when  the  Test  and  Corporation  Acts  were  repealed,  and 
in  the  following  year  the  Roman  Catholics  were  relieved  from 
their  disabilities. 


81 


A2 


LIVES  OF   EMI^-ENT  CnillSTIANS. 


ANNE   HUTCHINSON. 


URING  the  administration  of  Sir  Henry  Vane 
as  Governor  of  New  England,  Mrs.  Anne 
Hutchinson  arrived  from  England,  and  be- 
came a  member  of  the  Boston  church.  Of  the 
early  life  of  this  lady  little  is  known ;  she 
becomes  interesting  to  us  only  after  reaching 
America.  She  was  then  conversant  with  the 
various  religious  speculations  of  the  day ;  she 
had  examined  closely  the  tenets  of  their  princi- 
pal sects,  and  she  possessed  an  acuteness  of  intel- 
lect and  a  vividness  of  imagination  which  rendered 
her  arguments  both  searching  and  impressive. 
At  that  time  the  clergy  of  New  England  held 
weekly  meetings  for  the  purpose  of  instructing  their 
congregations  in  the  affairs  of  religion,  and  to  impress 
upon  their  minds  what  had  been  said  on  the  previous 
Sabbath.  Mrs.  Hutchinson  instituted  a  similar  practice  for 
persons  of  her  own  sex,  and  her  meetings  were  so  numerously 
attended  as  to  excite  the  alarm  of  the  clergy.  Which  part  first 
gave  offence  to  the  other,  it  would  perhaps  be  impossible  to 
ascertain  ;  but  it  is  certain  that,  in  a  very  short  time,  both 
acted  in  a  manner  entirely  unbecoming.  Mrs.  Hutchinson  was 
soon  involved  in  personal  disputes  with  the  clergy  ;  the  females, 
of  course,  took  part  with  her ;  the  people  of  Boston  advo  3ated 
her  cause ;  and,  from  that  time  until  Mrs.  Hutchinson's  death, 
the  colony  was  involved  in  a  dispute  so  violent  as  to  absorb  or 
involve  every  other  interest.  Unfortunately  for  the  authorities, 
they  strove  to  prove  Mrs.  Hutchinson  a  heretic,  instead  of  con- 
demning her  for  that  of  which  she  was  really  guilty — disrespect 
of  themselves  and  evil  speaking  of  their  ministers.  They  have 
thus  appeared  in  the  eyes  of  posterity  as  persecutors  for  con- 
science' sake,  and,  during  the  progress  of  the  controversy,  daily 
lost  ground  and  excited  sympathy  for  their  opponent.  It  was, 
perhaps,  in  resentment  of  this  conduct  that  Mrs.  Hutchinson 


ANNE   HUTCHINSON.  243 

advanced  her  famous  topic,  «'that  the  existence  of  the  real 
spirit  of  the  gospel  in  the  heart  of  a  man,  even  if  that  man 
should  happen  to  be  a  minister  of  extraordinary  gifts,  could 
not  be  inferred  with  certainty  from  the  outward  displays  of 
sanctity."  The  proposition,  as  a  proposition,  is  rigidly  correct; 
but  the  clergy  quickly  imagined  that,  though  general  in  terms, 
it  was  intended  in  spirit  to  be  specially  referable  to  them- 
selves. When  we  remember  vfith  what  reverence  the  Pu- 
ritans regarded  their  ministers,  we  will  be  able  to  appreciate, 
in  a  faint  degree,  the  effect  which  the  promulgation  of  such  a 
proposition  would  be  likely  to  have.  She  was  accused  of  "  dis- 
respect," "  libertinism,"  'ifamiliarism,"  "heresy,"  and  espe- 
cially of  maintaining  that  sanctification  is  no  evidence  of  justi- 
fication. These  actions  embittered  the  parties  more  and  more 
against  each  other,  and  greatly  strengthened  Mrs.  Hutchinson's 
cause.  New  points  of  discussion  were  started,  new  doctrines 
attacked  or  defended,  until  the  controversy  became  entangled 
in  inextricable  perplexity  and  confusion.  In  speaking  of  but 
one  topic  of  Mrs.  Hutchinson's  faith — that  the  Holy  Ghost 
dwells  in  every  believer — Governor  Winthrop  says,  "  The  ques- 
tion proceeded  so  far  by  disputation  (in  writing  for  the  peace 
sake  of  the  church,  which  all  were  tender  of)  as  at  length  they 
could  not  find  the  person  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  Scripture,  nor 
in  the  primitive  churches  three  hundred  years  after  Christ." 
It  is  now  admitted  that,  by  the  above  proposition,  Mrs.  Hutch- 
inson meant  no  more  than  that  the  possession  of  the  pure  spirit 
of  ChristiaLity  in  the  heart  constitutes  the  child  of  God. 

As  has  been  elsewhere  stated  in  this  book,  Mrs.  Hutchinson 
was  supported  by  Governor  Vane.  The  Reverend  Mr.  John 
Cotton  was  also  her  proselyte.  Governor  Winthrop  and  Mr, 
Wilson  led  the  opposition.  The  violence  of  the  controversy 
was  exhibited  in  the  election  which  defeated  Vane,  and  the 
conduct  of  the  Winthrop  party  in  that  affair  cannot  be  justified. 
Once  possessed  of  the  civil  arm  of  power,  Mrs.  Hutchinson's 
opponents  were  not  slow  in  applying  it  against  the  cause  which 
they  had  been  unable  to  overthrow  by  argument.  Her  brother- 
in-law,  Mr.Wheelwright,  a  pious  clergyman,  was  banished.  Mrs 
Hutchinson  was  herself  brought  to  trial,  and,  after  an  examina- 
tion, "in  which,"  says  Upham,  "she  exhibited  the  most  extra- 
ordinary degree  of  talent,  learning,  skill,  and  fortitude,  she  was 


244  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

also  ordered  from  the  colony.  She  removed  with  her  family  to 
Rhode  Island,  where,  without  abandoning  the  principles  for 
which  she  had  so  long  suffered,  she  was  permitted,  under  the 
mild  government  of  Roger  Williams,  to  enjoy  entire  freedom 
of  conscience.  It  is  worthy  of  mention  that  here  the  number 
of  her  adherents  steadily  decreased,  while  her  presence  was 
unattended  with  any  of  the  commotions  which,  under  the  bigoted 
policy  of  the  Massachusetts  settlers,  had  threatened  to  destroy 
that  colony. 

The  life  of  this  woman,  so  energetic  and  stormy,  was  des- 
tined to  a  tragic  conclusion.  On  the  death  of  her  husband,  she 
removed  to  Long  Island.  Here,  in  1643,  she  and  her  whole 
family  of  sixteen  persons  were  murdered  by  the  Indians,  with 
the  exception  of  one  daughter,  who  was  carried  into  captivity. 
Such  a  fate  might  have  drawn  tears  from  the  most  obstinate  of 
her  opponents ;  but  we  record  with  a  sigh  that  the  news  of  it 
was  received  at  Plymouth  with  satisfaction,  and  circulated  as  a 
proof  of  the  righteous  vindication  of  God's  cause. 

Of  Mrs.  Hutchinson  it  is  difficult  to  form  an  impartial  opi- 
nion. The  writer  of  her  life  in  the  American  Biography  de- 
scribes her  as  <'one  of  the  most  remarkable  persons  of  her  age 
and  sex — learned,  accomplished,  and  of  an  heroic  spirit.  Her 
genius  was  as  extraordinary  as  her  history  was  strange  and 
eventful.  Her  abilities  were  equalled  only  by  her  misfortunes. 
With  talents  and  graces  which  would  have  adorned  and  blessed 
the  private  spheres  within  which  they  ought  to  have  been  con- 
fined, she  aimed  to  occupy  a  more  public  position,  and  to  act 
upon  a  more  conspicuous  theatre,  and  the  consequence  was  that 
she  was  hated  where  she  would  otherwise  have  been  loved ;  a 
torrent  of  prejudice  and  calumny  was  made  to  pour  over  her; 
an  entire  community  was  thrown  into  disorder  and  convulsions 
for  years ;  a  most  cruel  persecution  drove  her  from  the  pale  of 
civilization,  and  she  fell  at  last  beneath  the  bloody  tomahawks 
of  murderous  savages."  In  summing  up  these  items,  we  may, 
perhaps,  conclude  that,  with  a  sincere  desire  after  truth,  her 
mind  was  sometimes  warped  by  ambition  and  resentments,  and 
that  the  consciousness  of  her  own  talent,  and  the  superiority  of 
her  spirit  to  that  of  her  opponents,  betrayed  her  into  actions 
and  measures  consonant  neither  with  the  female  character  no 
^he  character  of  an  apostle  of  truth. 


JONATHAN  EDWARDS. 


246 


JONATHAN   EDWARDS. 


RESIDENT  EDWARDS,  the  most  celebrated 
metaphysical  writer  which  America  has  yet 
produced,  was  born  at  East  Windsor,  Con- 
necticut, October  5,  1703.  His  father  Timo- 
thy Edwards,  pastor  of  the  church  in  Windsor, 
instructed  him  in  the  ancient  languages,  and 
in  September,  1716,  he  entered  Yale  College. 
Here  the  talents  which  afterwards  rendered  him 
conspicuous  soon  attracted  attention.  He  de- 
lighted in  abstract  and  metaphysical  investigations, 
and  when  fourteen,  read  Locke  with  great  attention. 
He  had  already  conceived  the  design  of  a  treatise 
on  Natural  Philosophy  and  Natural  History,  including 
Chemistry  and  Geology.  He  soon  became  a  promi- 
nent student,  equally  remarkable  for  application  and 
for  good  morals.  In  1720,  he  took  his  first  degree,  but 
remained  at  Yale  about  two  years  preparing  for  the  ministry. 
Afterwards  he  preached  for  about  eight  months  in  New  York ; 
but  in  1723,  he  was  elected  tutor  at  Yale.  He  remained  there, 
a  close  student,  until  1726,  when  he  received  a  call  from  the 
congregation  in  Northampton.  Mr.  Stod«lard,  the  old  minister 
at  that  place,  was  his  grandfather ;  and  it  was  a  source  of  satis- 
faction to  this  venerable  man  to  have  one  for  his  colleague 
ind  successor  whose  gifts  were  so  abundant.  The  old  man  died 
in  1729,  having  found  in  his  youthful  colleague  the  prop  of  his 
declining  years.  Edwards  now  entered  upon  his  career  as  an 
author.  His  Treatise  on  Religious  Affections  gained  him  wide 
celebrity,  and  was  republished  in  England  and  Scotland.  But 
an  unfortunate  occurrence  took  place,  which  eventuated  in  his 
separation  from  Northampton.  It  was  then  customary  to  baptize 
the  children  of  those  persons  who  merely  made  a  profession  of 

x2 


2^Q  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHKISTIANS. 

religion,  without  joining  the  church.  Mr.  Edwards  took  the 
propriety  of  this  practice  into  serious  consideration,  and  soon 
became  convinced  that  it  was  wrong.  In  1748,  he  published  a 
quarto  pamphlet,  entitled  "An  humble  inquiry  into  the  rules  ol 
the  Word  of  God  concerning  the  qualifications  for  a  full  com-  ■ 
munion  in  the  visible  Christian  church."  At  the  same  time  he 
publicly  reproved  certain  irregularities,  which  had  been  committed 
by  young  persons  connected  with  the  principal  families  of  his 
church.  The  Reverend  Samuel  Williams  answered  his  treatise 
concerning  church  qualifications.  Edwards  replied;  the  dispute 
caused  much  contention  in  the  different  churches,  and  a  council 
of  the  Northampton  congregation  advised  Mr.  Edwards  to  re- 
sign.    He  did  so,  in  1750. 

After  a  short  period  of  repose,  Mr.  Edwards  was  invited  to  take 
charge  of  the  congregation  at  Stockbridge.  They  elected  him 
their  missionary  to  the  Indians,  a  choice  in  which  the  town 
cordially  agreed.  Here  he  remained  six  years,  employed  among 
both  white  people  and  Indians,  and  pursuing  with  ardour  the 
speculations  for  which  his  mind  was  fitted.  His  greatest  work, 
"  On  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,"  was  composed  during  this  period, 
and  first  published  in  1754.  It  spread  rapidly  over  Europe, 
and  was  considered,  by  those  of  consonant  theological  opinions, 
as  the  greatest  work  on  the  subject  which  had  yet  appeared. 
Several  professors  of  divinity  in  the  Dutch  Universities  sent 
him  their  thanks  for  the  assistance  he  had  given  them  "in  their 
inquiry  into  some  doctrinal  points,  having  carried  his  own 
further  than  any  author  they  had  ever  seen."  Although  the 
book  is  written  in  opposition  "  to  Arminian  principles  and  the 
Pelagian  heresy,"  it  is  highly  commended  by  Dr.  Priestley  for 
its  fairness.  About  the  same  time  appeared  the  treatise  on 
Original  Sin. 

In  1757,  President  Burr  of  Princeton  College  died,  and  Ed- 
wards was  elected  in  his  place.  He  accepted  the  honour  with 
reluctance,  being  then  engaged  on  a  "History  of  the  Work  of 
Redemption,"  and  a  "View  of  the  Harmony  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testaments."  He  reached  Princeton  in  January,  1758. 
As  the  small  pox  then  prevailed  in  New  Jersey,  he  took  the 
precaution  to  be  inoculated.  This  brought  on  fever,  succeeded 
by  a  cold  and  a  sore  throat,  by  which  he  died  March  22,  1758 


JONATHAN  MAYHEW. 


247 


JONATHAN  MAYHEW. 


AYHEW  was  born  at  Martha's  Vineyard, 
^te^BRk  1720.  He  graduated  with  distinguished  ho 
~  nour  at  Harvard  College,  in  1744.  While  at 
college,  he  had  given  many  proofs  of  genius 
and  strength  of  mind,  some  of  which  were 
^  essays  in  verse.  In  1747,  he  was  invited  to 
take  charge  of  the  West  Church  in  Boston  ;  he 
accepted  the  invitation,  and  was  ordained  on 
the  17th  of  June.  Two  years  after,  he  pub- 
lished some  sermons  on  "the  difference  between 
truth  and  falsehood,  right  and  wrong  ;  the  natural 
abilities  of  men  for  discerning  these  differences," 
(^c.  These  gave  him  a  name  among  the  best  preach 
ers  of  that  day,  and  are  generally  considered  as  his 
masterpieces.  On  the  30th  of  January,  1750,  he 
preached  a  sermon,  in  which  were  <' reflections  on  the 
resistance  made  to  King  Charles."  It  gave  offence  to  members 
of  the  episcopacy,  and  seems  to  have  been  considered  too  se- 
vere by  many  of  the  New  England  dissenters.  It  passed 
through  several  editions  in  England  ;  and  as  a  proof  of  the 
admiration  it  elicited  in  Scotland,  it  may  be  mentioned,  that  in 
the  following  year,  the  University  of  Aberdeen  presented  Mr. 
Mayhew  with  a  diploma  of  Doctor  of  Divinity.  In  1754,  he 
preached  the  election  sermon,  a  memorable  production,  in  which 
he  traces  the  origin  and  end  of  civil  government,  and  proclaims 
his  adherence  to  the  British  Constitution,  as  determined  by  the 
Revolution.  In  another  discourse,  he  more  expressly  declares 
his  adherence  to  Whig  principles.  "  Having  been  initiated  in 
youth  in  the  doctrines  of  civil  liberty,  as  they  were  taught  by 
such  men  as  Plato,  Demosthenes,  Cicero,  and  other  renowned 
persons  among  the  ancients  ;  and  such  as  Sidney  and  Milton, 
Locke  and  Hoadley  among  the  moderns.  And  having  learnt 
from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  that  wise,  brave,  and  virtuous  men 
32 


248  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTLLNS. 

were  al^^ays  friends  to  liberty;  that  God  gave  the  Israelites  a 
king  in  his  anger,  because  they  had  not  sense  and  virtue  enough 
to  like  a  free  commonwealth,  and  that  where  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  is,  there  is  liberty,  this  made  me  conclude  that  freedom 
was  a  great  blessing." 

After  the  great  eartliquake,  November  23,  1755,  Dr.  Mayhew 
published  two  sermons,  together  with  an  "Appendix,  giving  a 
very  particular  account  of  the  time,  duration,  process,  extent, 
and  effects  of  the  great  earthquake."  Soon  after,  he  issued  a 
volume  of  sermons,  inculcating  the  Christian  graces  and  duties, 
in  a  plain  and  popular  style.  At  the  close  of  the  book,  is  a 
discoursJe  upon  the  shortness  of  life,  with  notes,  containing  stric- 
tures upon  Solomon's  Song,  and  the  doctrine  of  the  trinity. 
These  drew  upon  him  severe  animadversions  from  those  of  the 
orthodox  creed,  and  subsequently  the  doctor  requested  that  they 
might  be  omitted  in  the  London  edition.  In  1763,  the  publi- 
cation of  Mr.  Apthorp's  work  on  the  "  Institutions  and  Conduct 
of  the  Society  for  Propagating  the  Gospel,"  gave  rise  to  a  con- 
troversy, in  which  Dr.  Mayhew,  with  other  distinguished  men, 
participated.  He  wrote  a  book,  entitled  "Observations  on  the 
Charters  and  Conduct  of  the  Society  for  Propagating  the  Gos- 
pel in  foreign  parts."  A  reply  was  made  by  several  members 
of  the  society  in  America,  and  by  Dr.  Seeker,  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury.  To  the  book  styled,  "  A  Candid  Examination  of 
his  Observations,"  and  supposed  to  be  the  joint  production  of 
Mr.  Caner  and  Dr.  Johnson,  Dr.  Mayhew  replied,  declaring  the 
title-page  to  be  false,  and  that  the  work  was  destitute  of  both 
candour  and  truth.  This  was  followed  by  a  second  defence, 
written  in  a  much  more  gentle  spirit.  Having  printed  two  dis- 
courses on  the  "  Goodness  of  God,"  he  was  attacked  with  con- 
siderable severity  by  Mr.  Cleveland,  of  Essex  county.  To  that 
individual,  the  doctor  ^ent  a  "letter  of  reproof,"  one  of  the 
most  bitter  of  his  productions,  in  which  sarcasm  and  even  per- 
sonal reflections  were  much  too  freely  indulged  in.  An  indivi- 
dual named  Hopkins,  wishing  to  draw  Mayhew  into  a  dispute, 
wrote  a  book,  containing  remarks  on  two  of  the  doctor's  ser- 
mons ;  but  of  this  attack  the  doctor  took  no  notice.  In  1765, 
Doctor  Mayhew  preached  his  Dudleian  lecture  on  "  Popish  Idol- 
atry." In  the  following  year,  he  delivered  a  discourse  on  the 
"Repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act."     He  also  printed  two  volumes  of 


JONATHAN   MAYHEW.  249 

sermons,  each  on  a  particular  subject,  and  a  number  of  "miscel- 
laneous sermons.  His  death  occurred  July  8,  1766,  in  his 
forty-sixth  year. 

Doctor  Mayhew  was  eminently  a  champion  of  liberty.  Had 
he  survived  to  see  that  great  struggle  which  at  his  death  was 
just  commencing,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  he  would  have 
been  most  strenuous  in  his  efforts  against  the  mother  country. 
His  was  a  boldness  of  spirit  which  astonished  even  the  bold 
spirits  of  that  age.  He  spoke  with  glowing  sensibility  against 
every  priestly  usurpation  over  the  consciences  of  men,  and 
with  peculiar  earnestness  in  favour  of  truth  and  religion.  Many 
of  the  controversies  in  which  he  was  engaged  originated  in 
his  steadfast  adherence  to  primitive  gospel  simplicity,  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  commandments  of  men.  Unterrified  by  the  me- 
naces of  a  powerful  hierarchy,  he  stood  up  for  the  rights  of 
conscience,  and  was  not  afraid  to  admire  such  men  as  Milton, 
Locke,  and  Sidney.  He  loved  the  British  Constitution  ;  but 
he  opposed  with  all  his  might  those  who,  assuming  to  be  its 
protectors,  were  only  using  that  instrument  as  a  means  to  carry 
out  their  bad  designs.  It  is  to  this  independence  of  spirit  that 
we  are  to  ascribe,  in  a  great  measure,  the  caustic  nature  of  his 
controversial  style,  of  the  impropriety  of  which,  in  calmer  mo- 
ments, he  himself  was  aware.  On  the  whole,  however,  he  may 
be  considered  as  a  bright  example  of  the  Christian  life,  and  an 
effective  pioneer  in  the  cause  of  civil  and  religious  liberty. 


s:i 


250 


LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


TIMOTHY   DWIGHT. 


ORTHAMPTON,  Massachusetts,  has  the  ho- 
nour of  giving  birth  to  President  Dwight. 
He  was  born  May  14, 1752,  and  entered  Yale 
College  at  the  early  age  of  thirteen.  After 
graduating,  he  taught  a  grammar  school  at 
New  Haven  ;  but  he  left  it  in  1771,  to  become 
a  tutor  at  Yale.  When  only  seventeen,  he  had 
apportioned  his  time  with  accuracy,  devoting 
eight  hours  to  study,  six  to  his  school,  and  ten  to 
exercise  and  sleep.  When  nineteen,  he  com- 
menced his  "Conquest  of  Canaan,"  a  scriptural 
epic  poem,  which  he  finished  in  1774,  but  did  not 
publish  it  until  twenty-one  years  after.  While  teach- 
ing at  Yale,  he  studied  literature  and  the  high  mathe- 
matics ;  and,  as  a  proof  of  his  devotion  to  learning, 
it  may  be  mentioned  that  he  attempted  to  dispense 
with  the  necessity  of  bodily  exercise  by  restricting  his  diet. 
He  was  made  Master  of  Arts  in  1772,  on  which  occasion  he  de- 
livered a  Disquisition  on  the  History,  Eloquence,  and  Poetry 
of  the  Bible,  which  was  published  both  in  this  country  and  Eu- 
rope. Laborious  study  brought  on  sickness ;  he  was  with  diffi- 
culty removed  to  Northampton,  and  for  some  time  his  life  was 
considered  in  danger.  He  was  then  advised  by  his  medical  at- 
tendants to  exercise  much  in  the  open  air,  and  it  is  recorded  of 
him  that  in  a  year  he  walked  two  thousand  miles,  and  rode 
more  than  three  thousand.  By  this  means  he  restored  his 
health,  which  remained  good  until  his  death.  On  resuming  his 
studies,  he  engaged  with  more  earnestness  than  formerly  in 
that  of  theology;  but  the  war  with  Great  Britain  sometimes 
affected  even  the  quiet  recesses  of  Yale,  and,  at  length,  in  May, 
1777,  the  college  was  broken  up.  Dwight  went  with  his  clas8 
to  Wethersfield,  where  he  taught  them  until  September.    Moan- 


TIMOTHY  DWIGHT.  151 

while,  he  had  been  licensed  to  preach,  and  in  September  he 
was  appointed  chaplain  to  the  army.  He  not  only  performed 
the  duties  of  that  station  faithfully,  but  also  composed  several 
patriotic  songs,  which  were  widely  circulated,  and  contributed 
much  toward  exciting  enthusiasm  among  the  soldiers.  At  the 
death  of  his  father,  in  October,  1778,  he  left  the  army,  re- 
moved his  family  to  Northampton,  and  assisted  his  mother  in 
the  support  of  her  other  children.  Here  he  spent  five  years, 
labouring  on  the  farm  and  conducting  a  school  of  his  own  esta 
blishment,  in  which  were  employed  two  assistants.  On  Sab- 
baths he  preached  to  different  congregations  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. His  reputation  as  a  teacher  of  the  young,  as  a  scholar, 
and  as  a  minister,  spread  rapidly.  He  was  twice  elected  a 
member  of  the  Massachusetts  legislature.  In  1783,  he  was 
ordained  pastor  of  Greenfield  parish,  in  Connecticut.  About 
the  same  time  he  opened  an  academy  in  connection  with  his 
church.  Pupils  from  all  parts  of  the  Union  resorted  to  it,  and 
it  soon  had  a  reputation  higher  than  that  of  any  similar  insti- 
tution in  our  country.  In  twelve  years  he  taught  more  than  a 
thousand  scholars.  The  institutions  of  learning  in  our  coun- 
try vied  with  each  other  in  doing  him  honour.  In  1787, 
Princeton  College  conferred  upon  him  the  title  of  Doctor  of  Di- 
vinity, and  in  1795  he  was  elected  president  of  Yale. 

In  1794,  Dr.  Dwight  published  "Greenfield  Hill,"  a  poem 
in  seven  parts,  which,  with  his  epic  production,  was  republished 
in  England.  On  entering  upon  his  duties  at  Yale,  he  found 
the  college  in  a  languid  state.  The  number  of  students  was 
small ;  the  directors  were  disheartened  ;  the  chair  of  theology 
was  vacant,  with  but  little  prospect  of  having  it  filled.  But 
Dwight's  reputation  soon  filled  the  classes.  He  volunteered  as 
professor  of  theology,  and  remained  in  that  station  until  his 
death.  In  1797,  he  was  requested  by  the  General  Association 
of  Connecticut  to  revise  Watts's  version  of  the  Psalms,  to  sup- 
ply such  as  were  omitted,  and  to  prepare  a  collection  of  hymns 
for  public  worship.  He  accomplished  this  work,  and,  in  1800, 
submitted  it  to  the  consideration  of  a  joint  committee  from  the 
General  Association  and  the  Presbyterian  General  Assembly. 
Watts's  Psalms  were  considerably  altered,  and  thirty-three  of 
Dwight's  own  composing  added. 

President  Dwight  remained  at  Yale  College  until  his  death, 


252  LIVES   01    EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

January  11,  1817.  The  nature  of  the  disorder  which  termi- 
nated his  existence  was  not  distinctly  understood.  Besides  the 
works  already  enumerated,  he  published  others,  which  have 
been  widely  circulated  both  in  this  country  and  abroad.  The 
principal  of  these  are  his  Theology,  a  collection  of  lectures  ii^ 
that  department,  and  the  notes  on  his  travels.  The  latter  were 
composed  hastily,  during  the  rambles  he  indulged  in  at  the  sum- 
mer vacations,  from  the  year  1796  to  his  death.  It  comprises 
sketches  of  the  scenery  passed  over,  and  of  the  condition  of 
society,  together  with  notices  and  anecdotes  of  the  eminent 
men  of  that  period,  including  many  Indians.  These  were  first 
written  for  the  gratification  of  his  family ;  but,  after  the  presi- 
dent's death,  they  were  collected  and  published  in  four  octavo 
volumes.  His  death  was  deeply  regretted  both  by  the  public 
and  hj  his  numerous  religious  and  literary  friends. 


ROBERT  BOYLE.  253: 


ROBERT  BOYLE, 

MAN  of  rare  excellence  and  accomplish* 
ments,  was  one  of  those  who  do  honour  to 
high  birth  and  ample  fortune,  by  employing 
them,  not  as  the  means  of  selfish  gratifica- 
tion or  personal  aggrandizement,  but  in  the' 
^f>  furtherance  of  every  useful  pursuit  and  every 
benevolent  purpose.  By  the  lover  of  science  he 
is  honoured  as  one  of  the  first  and  most  successful 
cultivators  of  experimental  philosophy;  to  the 
Christian  his  memory  is  endeared,  as  that  of  one, 
who,  in  the  most  licentious  period  of  English  his- 
tory, showed  a  rare  example  of  religion  and  virtue 
in  exalted  station,  and  was  an  early  and  zealous  pro- 
moter of  the  difi"usion  of  the  Scriptures  in  foreign 
Jands. 
Robert  Boyle  was  the  youngest  son  but  one  of  a  states- 
man eminent  in  the  successive  reigns  of  Elizabeth  and  the  first 
James  and  Charles,  and  well  known  in  Ireland  by  the  honoura- 
ble title  of  the  Great  Earl  of  Cork.  He  has  left  an  unfinished 
sketch  of  his  own  early  life,  in  which  he  assumes  the  name  of 
Philaretus,  a  lover  of  virtue ;  and  speaks  of  his  childhood  as 
characterized  by  two  things,  a  more  than  usual  inclination  to 
study,  and  a  rigid  observance  of  truth  in  all  things.  He  was 
born  in  Ireland,  January  25,  1626-7.  In  his  ninth  year  he 
was  sent,  with  his  elder  brother  Francis,  to  Eton,  where  he 
spent  between  three  and  four  years  ;  in  the  early  part  of  which, 
under  the  guidance  of  an  able  and  judicious  tutor,  he  made 
great  progress  both  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  and  in 
forming  habits  of  accurate  and  diligent  inquiry.  But  his  stu- 
dies were  interrupted  by  a  severe  ague  ;  and  while  recovering. 
from  that  disorder  he  contracted  a  habit  of  desultory  reading, 
which  it  afterwards  cost  him  some  pains  to  conquer  by  a  labo- 

Y 


254  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

rious  course  of  mathematical  calculations.  During  his  abode 
at  Eton,  several  remarkable  escapes  from  imminent  peril  oc- 
curred to  him,  upon  which,  in  after-life,  he  looked  back  with 
reverential  gratitude,  and  with  the  full  conviction  that  the 
direct  hand  of  an  overruling  Providence  was  to  be  traced  in 
them. 

Towards  the  close  of  1637,  as  it  should  seem,  his  father,  who 
had  purchased  the  manor  of  Stalbridge,  in  Dorsetshire,  took 
him  home.  In  October,  1638,  he  was  sent  abroad,  under  the 
charge  of  a  governor,  with  his  brother  Francis.  They  visited 
France,  Switzerland,  and  Italy;  and  Philaretus's  narrative  of 
his  travels  is  not  without  interest.  The  only  incident  which  we 
shall  mention  as  occurring  during  this  period,  is  one  which  may 
be  thought  by  many  scarcely  worthy  of  notice.  Boyle  himself 
used  to  speak  of  it  as  the  most  considerable  accident  of  his 
whole  life ;  and  for  its  influence  upon  his  life  it  ought  not  to  be 
omitted.  While  staying  at  Geneva,  he  was  waked  in  the  night 
by  a  thunder-storm  of  remarkable  violence.  Taken  unprepared 
and  startled,  it  struck  him  that  the  day  of  judgment  was  at 
hand;  "whereupon,"  to  use  his  own  words,  "the  consideration 
of  his  uupreparedness  to  welcome  it,  and  the  hideousness  of  be- 
ing surprised  by  it  in  an  unfit  condition,  made  him  resolve  and 
vow,  that  if  his  fears  that  night  were  disappointed,  all  further 
additions  to  his  life  should  be  more  religiously  and  watchfully 
employed."  He  has  been  spoken  of  as  being  a  skeptic  before 
this  sudden  conversion.  This  does  not  appear  from  his  own 
account,  farther  than  as  any  boy  of  fourteen  may  be  so  called, 
who  has  never  taken  the  trouble  fully  to  convince  himself  of 
those  truths  which  he  professes  to  believe.  On  the  breaking 
out  of  the  rebellion  in  1642,  the  troubled  state  of  England  and 
the  death  of  the  Earl  of  Cork  involved  the  brothers  in  consi- 
derable pecuniary  difficulties.  They  returned  to  England  in 
1644,  and  Robert,  after  a  short  delay,  took  possession  of  the 
manor  of  Stalbridge,  which,  with  a  considerable  property  in 
Ireland,  had  been  bequeathed  to  him  by  his  father.  By  the  in- 
terest of  his  brother  and  sister,  Lord  Broghill  and  Lady  Rane- 
lagh,  who  were  on  good  terms  with  the  ruling  party,  he  ob- 
tained protections  for  his  property,  and  for  the  next  six  years 
made  Stalbridge  his  principal  abode.  This  portion  of  his  life 
was  chiefly  spent  in  the  study  of  ethical  and  natural  philosophy  ; 


ROBERT    BOYLE.  256 

and  his  name  began  already  to  be  respected  among  the  meii  of 
science  of  the  day. 

In  1652  he  went  to  Ireland  to  look  after  his  property,  and 
spent  the  greater  part  of  the  next  two  years  there.  Returning 
to  England  in  1654,  he  settled  at  Oxford.  That  which  espe- 
cially directed  him  to  this  place,  besides  it  being  generally 
suited  to  the  prosecution  of  all  his  literary  and  philosophical 
pursuits,  was  the  presence  of  that  knot  of  learned  men  from 
whom  the  Royal  Society  took  its  rise.  It  consisted  of  a  few 
only,  but  those  eminent ;  Bishop  Wilkins,  Wallis,  Ward,  Wren, 
and  others,  who  used  to  meet  for  the  purpose  of  conferring 
upon  philosophical  subjects,  and  mutually  communicating  and 
reasoning  on  their  respective  experiments  and  discoveries. 

At  the  Restoration,  Boyle  was  treated  with  great  respect  by 
the  king ;  and  was  strongly  pressed  to  enter  the  church  by 
Lord  Clarendon,  who  thought  that  his  high  birth,  eminent  learn- 
ing, and  exemplary  character  might  be  of  material  service  to 
the  revived  establishment.  After  serious  consideration  he  de- 
s-»lined  the  proposal,  upon  two  accounts,  as  he  told  Burnet ; 
first,  because  he  thought  that  while  he  performed  no  ecclesias- 
tical duties,  and  received  no  pay,  his  testimony  in  favour  of 
religion  would  carry  more  weight ;  secondly,  because  he  felt  no 
especial  vocation  to  take  holy  orders,  which  he  considered  in- 
dispensable to  the  proper  entering  into  that  service. 

From  this  time  forward,  Boyle's  life  is  not  much  more  than 
the  history  of  his  works.  It  passed  in  an  even  current  of  tran- 
quil happiness  and  diligent  employment,  little  broken,  except 
by  illness,  from  which  he  was  a  great  sufferer.  At  an  early 
age,  he  was  attacked  by  the  stone,  and  continued  through  life 
subject  to  paroxysms  of  that  dreadful  disease;  and  in  1670  he 
\...s  afflicted  with  a  severe  paralytic  complaint,  from  which  he 
fortunately  recovered  without  sustaining  any  mental  injury. 
On  the  incorporation  of  the  Royal  Society  in  1663,  he  was 
named  as  one  of  the  council  in  the  charter ;  and  as  he  had  been 
one  of  the  orio-inal  members,  so  throuo!;h  his  life  he  continued 
to  publish  his  shorter  treatises  in  their  Transactions.  In  1662 
he  was  appointed  by  the  king  Grovernor  of  the  Corporation  for 
propagating  the  Gospel  in  New  England.  The  diffusion  of 
Christianity  was  a  favourite  subject  of  exertion  with  him  through 
life.     For  the  sole   purpose  of  exerting  a  more   effectual   influ-^ 


256  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHBTSTTANS. 

ence  in  introducing  it  into  India,  he  became  a  director  of  the 
East  India  Company;  and,  at  his  own  expense,  caused  the  Gos- 
pels and  Acts  to  be  translated  into  Malay,  and  five  hundred 
copies  to  be  printed  and  sent  abroad.  He  also  caused  a  trans- 
lation of  the  Bible  into  Irish  to  be  made  and  published,  at  an 
expense  of  £700  ;  and  bore  great  part  of  the  expense  of  a 
similar  undertaking  in  the  Welsh  language.  To  other  works 
of  the  same  sort  he  was  a  liberal  contributor ;  and  as  in  speech 
and  writing  he  was  a  zealous,  yet  temperate  advocate  of  reli- 
gion, so  he  showed  his  sincerity  by  a  ready  extension  of  his 
ample  funds  to  all  objects  which  tended  to  promote  the  religious 
welfare  of  his  fellow-creatures. 

In  the  year  1666,  he  took  up  his  abode  in  London,  where  he 
continued  for  the  remainder  of  his  life.  During  the  years 
1689-90,  he  gradually  withdrew  himself  more  and  more  from 
his  other  employments,  and  from  the  claims  of  society,  to  de- 
vote himself  entirely  to  the  preparation  of  his  papers,  ^e 
<iied,  unmarried,  December  31,  1691,  aged  sixty-five  years,  and 
was  buried  in  the  chancel  of  St.  Martin's-in-the-fields. 

To  give  merely  the  dates  and  titles  of  Boyle's  several  publi- 
cations would  occupy  several  pages.  They  are  collected  in  five 
volumes  folio,  by  Dr.  Birch,  and  amount  in  number  to  ninety- 
seven.  The  philosophical  works  have  been  abridged  in  three 
volumes  quarto,  by  Dr.  Shaw,  who  has  prefixed  to  his  edition  a 
character  of  the  author  and  of  his  works.  From  1660  to  the 
end  of  his  life,  every  year  brought  fresh  evidence  of  his  clos« 
application  to  science,  the  versatility  of  his  talents,  and  the 
extent  of  his  knowledge.  His  attention  was  directed  to  che- 
mistry, mathematics,  mechanics,  medicine,  ana.tomy;  but  more 
especially  to  the  former,  in  its  many  branches :  and  though  he 
is  not  altogether  free  from  the  reproach  of  credulity,  and  ap- 
pears not  to  have  entirely  freed  himself  from  the  delusions  of 
the  alchymists,  still  he  did  more  towards  overthrowing  their 
mischievous  doctrines,  and  establishing  his  favourite  science  on 
a  firm  foundation,  than  any  man  ;  and  his  indefatigable  dili- 
gence in  inquiry  and  unquestioned  honesty  of  relation  entitle 
him  to  a  very  high  place  among  the  fathers  of  modern  che- 
mistry. 


GUSTAVUS  ADOLPHUS. 


25" 


GUSTAVUS  ADOLPHUS. 


YING  under  vassalage  to  the  crown  of  Den- 
mark, during  the  fifteenth  and  the  beginning 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  Sweden  suffered  the 
evils  which  commonly  belong  to  that  condition 
Gustavus  Vasa,  after  a  series  of  romantic  ad- 
ventures, established  the  independence  of  his 
|j  country,  and  was  deservedly  elected  by  the 
Swedish  Diet,  in  1523,  to  wear  its  crown.  The 
same  kingdom  to  which  he  gave  a  place  among 
free  states,  his  grandson,  Gustavus  Adolphus, 
raised  from  the  obscurity  of  a  petty  northern 
power,  to  rule  in  Germany,  and  to  be  the  terror  of 
the  Church  of  Rome. 
The  establishment  of  the  Reformation  was  coeval 
with  the  independence  of  Sweden :  and  a  fundamental 
law  forbade  any  future  sovereign  to  alter  the  national 
religion,  or  to  admit  Roman  Catholics  to  offices  of  power  and 
trust.  For  infringing  this  principle,  Sigismond,  by  election 
King  of  Poland,  the  lineal  successor  of  Gustavus  Yasa,  was  set 
aside  by  the  Diet,  and  the  crown  was  given  to  his  father's 
younger  brother,  Charles,  Duke  of  Sudermania.  Charles  died, 
and  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  Gustavus  Adolphus,  December 
31,  1611:  the  high  promise  of  whose  youth  induced  the  States 
to  abridge  the  period  of  minority,  and  admit  him  at  once  to  the 
exercise  of  regal  power,  though  he  had  but  just  attained  the 
age  of  seventeen,  being  born  December  9,  1594. 

He  had  been  trained  up  in  the  knowledge  likely  to  be  service- 
able to  a  king  and  a  soldier.  He  spoke  the  Latin  language, 
then  a  universal  medium  of  communication,  with  uncommon 
energy  and  precision ;  he  conversed  fluently  in  French,  Italian, 
and  German ;  he  had  studied  history,  political  science,  mathe- 
matics, and  military  tactics ;  and,  commencing  with  the  part  ot 
33  y2 


258  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

a  musketeer,  he  had  been  made  master,  by  practice,  of  all  the 
details  of  a  soldier's  life.  He  was  capable  of  very  severe  appli- 
cation to  abstruse  study,  and  is  said  to  have  passed  whole  nights 
in  reading  the  military  history  of  the  ancients.  He  was  of 
uncommon  stature  and  strength,  and  his  constitution  was  early 
inured  to  labour  and  endurance. 

Gustavus's  situation,  at  his  accession,  was  critical.  The  King 
of  Poland  laid  claim  to  his  dominions,  and  Denmark  and  Mus- 
covy were  in  arms  against  him.  The  danger  was  most  pressing 
on  the  side  of  Denmark ;  and  thither  Gustavus's  first  efforts 
were  directed.  But  in  Christian  IV.  he  had  to  contend  with  an 
able  enemy,  from  whom  he  gained  no  advantage ;  and  after  one 
unsuccessful  campaign,  he  accommodated  the  quarrel  at  the  ex- 
pense of  some  concessions.  In  the  war  with  Muscovy  he  was 
more  fortunate ;  and  he  reduced  the  czar  to  purchase  peace  in 
1617,  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  provinces  which  border  the  gulf 
of  Finland  and  the  Baltic  sea.  During  these  years  of  warfare, 
Gustavus  found  leisure  to  bestow  attention  upon  internal  im- 
provements. He  devoted  much  thought  and  care  upon  strength- 
ening the  Swedish  navy,  esteeming  that  to  be  his  surest  defence 
against  invasion  ;  he  sought  to  encourage  commerce ;  he  purified 
the  administration  of  justice,  by  rendering  judges  less  dependent 
upon  the  crown,  and  by  abridging  the  tediousness  and  expense 
of  lawsuits ;  and  he  laboured  to  devise  means  for  increasing  the 
revenue  by  judicious  arrangement,  without  adding  to  the  burdens 
of  the  people.  Both  in  peace  and  war  he  received  the  most 
valuable  assistance  from  his  zealous,  faithful,  and  sagacious 
minister,  the  celebrated  Oxenstiern. 

In  1620,  Gustavus  travelled  incognito  through  the  chief  towns 
of  Germany.  At  Berlin  he  formed  acquaintance  with  Maria 
Eleonora,  sister  to  the  Elector  of  Brandenburg,  whom  he  espoused 
at  Stockholm  in  November  of  the  same  year.  One  daughter, 
the  famous  Christina,  his  successor,  was  the  offspring  of  this 
marriage. 

The  King  of  Poland's  enmity  was  not  seconded  by  his  ability. 
He  endeavoured  in  vain  to  shake  the  fidelity  of  Gustavus's 
subjects,  and  he  tried  the  fortune  of  war  with  no  better  success. 
In  the  contests  between  the  cousins  which  occurred  in  the  first 
ten  years  of  Gustavus's  reign,  the  advantage  was  always  on  the 
side  of  Sweden.     Gustavus  was  desirous  of  peace,  and  forbore 


GUSTAYUS  ADOLPHUS.  259 

to  press  his  superiority.    But  Sigismond's  hostility  was  nourished 
and  stimulated  by  the  leading  Catholic  powers,  Spain  and  Aus- 
tria ;  and  he  made  so  bad  a  return  for  this  moderation,  that  in 
1621,  the  war  was  renewed  in  a  more  determined  manner,  and 
in  the  course  of  eight  years  Livonia,   Courland,    and  Polish 
Prussia  were  gradually  subjected    to    Sweden.       During   this 
time  Grustavus  was  no  careless  spectator  of  the  Thirty  Years' 
War,  which  was  raging  in  Germany.     However  well  inclined  he 
might  be  to  step  forward  as  the  defender  of  the  Protestant  cause, 
he  could  not  do  so  with  effect  while  his  exertions  were  demanded 
m  Poland ;  and  though  he  made  an  offer  of  assistance  to  the 
Protestants  in  1626,  it  was  clogged  with  conditions  which  in- 
duced them  to  decline  his  proposals.     But  in  1629,  under  the 
mediation  of  France,  he  concluded  a  truce  for  six  years  with 
Sigismond,  retaining  possession  of  the  conquered  provinces  ;  and 
being  thus  relieved   from  all  fear  of  Poland,  and  guarantied 
against  injury  from  Denmark  by  the  interest  of  that  country  in 
checking  the  progress  of  the  Imperial  arms,  he  found  himself 
qualified  to  take  the  decisive  part  which  he  had  long  desired  in 
the  affairs  of  Germany.      How  f^ir  his  determination  was  in- 
fluenced by  personal  and  ambitious  motives,  how  far  it  was  due 
to  patriotism  and  religious  zeal,  it  must  be  left  to  each  inquirer 
to  decide  for  himself.     The  crisis  was  one  of  extreme  import- 
ance: for  the  temporal  rights  of  the  whole  German  empire  were 
endangered  by  the  inordinate  and  seemingly  prosperous  ambi- 
tion of  the  House  of  Austria;  and  the  Protestant  states  in  par- 
ticular  had  reason  to  apprehend  the  speedy  destruction  of  their 
own,  and  the  re-establishment  of  the  Roman  Catholic  church. 
And  if  the  influence  of  the  Emperor  Ferdinand  IL,  supported 
by  the  papal  hierarchy,  re-established  in  its   great  power  and 
rich  benefices  through  the  north  of  Germany,  were  suffered  un- 
checked to  extend  itself  to  the  Baltic  sea,  the  liberties  of  Sweden 
and  Denmark,  and  the  very  existence  of  the  Reformation  on  the 
continent,  seemed  to  be  involved  in  no  remote  danger.     To  pull 
down  the  power  of  Ferdinand  and  the  Catholic  league  thus  be- 
came of  vital  moment  to  the  King  of  Sweden.     But  though  the 
Protestant  princes  were  ready  to  invoke  his  assistance  in  "secret 
complaints,  none  of  them  dared  to  conclude  an  open  treaty  with 
a  distant  prince,  and  a  kingdom  hitherto  obscure,  and  thus  tc 
incur  the  resentment  of  the  emperor,  whose  formidable  armies, 


260  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

anxious  above  all  things  for  the  renewal  of  war  and  rapine,  were 
at  hand.  Moreover,  the  jealousy  and  selfishness  of  the  chiefs 
of  the  Protestant  union  formed  a  greater  obstacle  to  the  King 
of  Sweden's  views,  than  even  the  weakness  of  their  individual 
states.  Unable,  therefore,  to  obtain  the  cordial  and  willing  co- 
operation of  those  who  were  linked  to  him  by  the  bond  of  a 
common  interest,  Gustavus  had  only  the  alternative  to  abandon 
them  to  their  fate  and  share  the  dangers  which  he  sought  to 
obviate,  or  to  take  the  equivocal  and  rarely  defensible  step  of 
occupying  their  territories  and  compelling  their  assistance,  an 
unsolicited,  though  an  honourable  and  friendly  ally.  He  chose 
the  latter. 

The  shortest  apology  for  this  determination,  which,  as  a  matter 
of  policy,  was  opposed  by  Oxenstiern,  may  be  found  in  the  sub- 
stance of  the  king's  answer  to  that  minister's  objections,  as  it  is 
abridged  by  Schiller  in  his  History  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War. 
"If  we  wait  for  the  enemy  in  Sweden,  in  losing  a  battle,  all  is 
lost:  all,  on  the  contrary,  is  gained  if  we  obtain  the  first  success 
in  Germany.  The  sea  is  large,  and  we  have  extensive  coasts  to 
watch.  Should  the  enemy's  fleet  escape  us,  or  our  own  be  beaten, 
it  is  not  possible  for  us  to  prevent  a  landing.  We  must  there- 
fore use  all  our  efforts  for  the  preservation  of  Stralsund.  So 
long  as  this  harbour  shall  be  in  our  power,  we  shall  maintain  the 
honour  of  our  flag  in  the  Baltic,  and  shall  be  able  to  keep  up  a 
free  intercourse  with  Germany.  But  in  order  to  defend  Stral- 
sund, we  must  not  shut  ourselves  up  in  Sweden ;  but  must  pass 
over  with  an  army  into  Pomerania.  Speak  to  me  then  no  more 
of  a  defensive  war,  by  which  we  shall  lose  our  most  precious 
advantages.  Sweden  herself  must  not  behold  the  standards  of 
the  enemy ;  and,  if  we  are  vanquished  in  Germany,  it  will  still 
be  time  enough  to  have  recourse  to  your  plan." 

The  army  which  Gustavus  carried  into  Germany  consisted 
only  of  15,000  men;  but  it  was  formidable  from  its  bravery,  its 
high  discipline,  and  the  reliance  which  the  general  and  the  troops 
felt  upon  each  other.  "All  excesses,"  we  quote  from  Schiller, 
"  were  punished  in  a  severe  manner ;  but  blasphemy,  theft, 
gaming,  and  duelling  met  with  a  more  severe  chastisement. 
The  Swedish  articles  of  war  prescribed  moderation :  there  was 
not  to  be  seen  in  the  Swedish  camp,  even  in  the  tent  of  the 
king,  either  gold  or  silver.     The  general's  eye  watched  carefully 


GUSTAVUS   ADOLPHUS.  261 

over  the  manners  of  the  soldiers,  while  it  inflamed  their  courage 
in  battle.  Every  regiment  must  each  morning  and  evening  form 
itself  in  a  circle  round  its  chaplain,  and  in  the  open  air,  address 
prayers  to  the  Almighty.  In  all  this  the  legislator  himself 
served  as  a  model.  An  unaffected  and  pure  piety  animated  the 
courage  of  his  great  mind.  Equally  free  from  that  gross  incre- 
dulity which  leaves  without  restraint  the  ferocious  movements 
of  the  barbarian,  and  the  grovelling  bigotry  of  a  Ferdinand,  whc 
abased  himself  in  the  dust  before  the  Divinity  and  yet  disdain- 
fully trampled  on  the  necks  of  mankind,  in  the  height  of  his 
good  fortune  Gustavus  was  always  a  man  and  a  Christian ;  amid 
all  his  devotion,  the  hero  and  the  king.  He  supported  all  the 
hardships  of  war  like  the  lowest  soldier  in  his  army ;  his  mind 
was  serene  in  the  midst  of  the  most  furious  battle ;  his  genius 
pointed  out  the  results  to  him  beforehand :  everywhere  present, 
he  forgot  death  which  surrounded  him,  and  he  was  always  found 
where  there  was  the  greatest  danger.  His  natural  valour  made 
him  too  often  lose  sight  of  what  Avas  due  to  the  general,  and  this 
great  king  terminated  his  life  as  a  common  soldier.  But  the 
coward  as  well  as  the  brave  followed  such  a  leader  to  victory, 
and  not  any  of  the  heroical  actions  which  his  example  had 
created  ever  escaped  his  penetrating  eye.  The  glory  of  their 
sovereign  inflamed  the  entire  Swedish  nation  with  a  noble  con- 
fidence ;  proud  of  his  king,  the  peasant  of  Finland  and  Gothland 
joyfully  gave  up  what  his  poverty  could  afford ;  the  soldier  will- 
ingly shed  his  blood ;  and  that  elevated  sentiment  which  the 
genius  of  this  single  man  gave  to  the  nation  survived  him  a 
considerable  time." 

Gustavus  took  a  solemn  farewell  of  the  States  of  .the  king- 
dom, May  20,  1630,  presenting  to  them  his  daughter  Christina, 
as  his  heir  and  successor.  Adverse  winds  delayed  his  departure, 
and  it  was  not  till  the  24th  of  June  that  he  reached  the  coast 
of  Pomerania.  He  disembarked  his  army  on  the  islands  of 
Wollin  and  Usedom,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Oder,  and,  having 
taken  possession  of  the  strong  town  of  Stettin  on  the  sara(; 
river,  established  a  sure  footing  on  the  continent,  and  secured 
his  means  of  retreat  and  communication  with  Sweden.  To  this 
proceeding  he  gained  a  reluctant  consent  from  the  Duke  of 
Pomerania,  who,  though  wearied  and  disgusted  Avith  the  ravages 
of  the  Imperial  troops,  was  unwilling  to  commit  himself  in  de* 


262  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

fence  of  that  which  still  appeared  the  weaker  cause.  But  ha\  ing 
no  force  to  prevent  the  hostile,  if  he  refused  to  warrant  the 
friendly,  occupation  of  his  country,  he  made  a  virtue  of  neces- 
sity, and  allied  himself  closely  with  the  Swede. 

Gustavus's  progress  at  first  produced  no  uneasiness  at  Vienna  : 
the  courtiers  called  him  the  snow-king,  and  said  in  derision  that 
he  would  melt  in  his  progress  southward.  But  in  the  first  cam- 
paign he  nearly  cleared  Pomerania  of  the  Imperialists ;  and  he 
was  strengthened  by  the  accession  of  the  Duke  of  Mecklenburg, 
who,  having  been  despoiled  of  his  territories  in  favour  of  Wal- 
lenstein,  now  openly  raised  troops  in  support  of  the  King  of 
Sweden.  As  winter  approached,  the  Imperialists  negotiated  for 
a  suspension  of  arms;  but  Gustavus  replied,  "The  Swedes  are 
soldiers  in  winter  as  well  as  summer,  and  are  not  disposed  to 
make  the  peaceable  inhabitants  of  the  country  support  any  longer 
than  necessary  the  evils  of  war.  The  Imperialists  may  do  as 
they  choose,  but  the  Swedes  do  not  intend  to  remain  inactive." 

Meanwhile,  he  met  with  cold  support  from  the  Protestant 
princes,  in  whose  cause  he  had  taken  arms.  The  chief  of  these 
was  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  who  felt  a  jealousy,  not  unnatural, 
of  the  power  and  the  ultimate  views  of  the  King  of  Sweden, 
and  was  himself  ambitious  to  play  the  first  part  among  the 
Protestants  of  Germany.  Seeking  to  act  independently,  and 
to  hold  the  balance  between  Sweden  and  Austria,  he  invited  the 
Protestant  states  to  a  conference  at  Leipsic,  February  6,  1631, 
at  which  it  was  determined  to  demand  from  the  emperor  the 
redress  of  grievances,  and  to  levy  an  army  of  40,000  men  to 
give  weight  to  their  remonstrances.  On  the  l3th  of  January, 
Gustavus  had  concluded  an  alliance  with  France,  by  the  terms 
of  which  he  was  to  maintain  in  Germany  30,000  men,  France 
furnishing  a  subsidy  of  $400,000  yearly,  to  use  his  best  endea- 
vours to  reinstate  those  princes  who  had  been  expelled  from 
their  dominions  by  the  emperor  or  the  Catholic  League,  and  to 
restore  the  empire  to  the  condition  in  which  it  existed  at  the 
commencement  of  the  war.  Richelieu  tried  to  bring  the  princes 
who  had  joined  in  the  convention  of  Leipsic  to  accede  to  this 
alliance,  but  with  very  partial  success.  A  few  promised  to  sup- 
port the  Swedes  when  opportunity  should  favour ;  but  the 
Electors  of  Saxony  and  Brandenburg  kept  aloof.  During 
these  negotiations,  Gustavus  made  progress  in  Brandenburg. 


GUSTAVUS    ADOLPHUS.  263 

The  memorable  siege  and  destruction  of  Magdeburg,  May  10, 
by  Tilly,  for  a  time  cast  a  gloom  over  the  Protestant  cause. 
Gustavus  has  been  censured,  both  as  a  man  and  a  soldier,  for 
suffering  that  well-deserving  and  important  place  to  fall  without 
risking  a  battle  in  its  behalf  His  defence  rests  upon  the  in- 
terposed delays  and  the  insincerity  of  the  electors,  which  in- 
volved him  in  the  risk  of  total  destruction  if  he  advanced  thus 
far  without  having  his  retreat  secured.  But  even  this  signal 
misfortune  proved  finally  serviceable  to  the  Protestant  cause. 
It  induced  Gustavus  to  adopt  a  different  tone  with  his  brother- 
in-law  of  Brandenburg,  who,  finding  no  alternative  but  a  real 
union  or  an  open  rupture  with  Sweden,  wisely  chose  the  former. 
The  pride  of  success  led  the  Imperial  generals  into  acts  of  in- 
solence, which  induced  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse  Cassel,  first  of 
the  German  princes,  to  conclude  a  close  and  hearty  alliance 
with  Sweden,  and  left  the  Elector  of  Saxony  no  choice  between 
entire  dependence  on  the  already  exasperated  emperor  and  an 
effective  support  of  the  only  power  that  could  protect  him. 
Accordingly  he  formed  a  junction  with  the  S^vedes,  and  the 
united  forces  joined  battle  with  Tilly,  not  far  from  Leipsic,  Sep- 
tember 7,  1631.  The  opposing  armies  were  nearly  equal  in 
strength.  The  stress  of  the  conflict  fell  on  the  right  wing  of 
the  Swedes,  where  the  king  commanded  in  person.  The  fiery 
Pappenheim  led  seven  impetuous  charges  of  the  whole  Austrian 
cavalry  against  the  Swedish  battalions  without  success,  and, 
seven  times  repulsed,  abandoned  the  field  with  great  loss.  The 
Saxons  on  the  left  wing  were  broken  by  Tilly.  But  the  day 
was  restored  by  a  decisive  movement  of  the  S^vedish  right  wing 
upon  Tilly's  flank,  and  the  imperialists  dispersed  in  utter  con- 
fusion. Leipsic,  Merseburg,  and  Halle  speedily  fell  into  the 
victor's  hands,  and  no  obstacle  existed  to  check  his  advance 
even  to  the  heart  of  the  emperor's  hereditary  dominions.  This 
was  a  tempting  prospect  to  an  ambitious  man  ;  but  it  would 
have  abandoned  Germany  to  Tilly,  who  was  already  occupied 
in  raising  a  fresh  army;  and  the  King  of  Sweden  determined 
to  march  toward  Franconia  and  the  Rhine,  to  encourage  by  his 
presence  the  Protestants  who  wavered,  and  to  cut  the  sinews 
of  the  Catholic  League  by  occupying  the  territories  and  divert- 
ing the  revenues  of  its  princes.    Bohemia  lay  open  to  the  Elector 


264  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

of  Saxony,  and  he  left  it  to  that  prince  to  divert  the  emperor'i? 
attention  by  carrying  the  war  into  that  country. 

From  Leipsic,  Gustavus  pursued  his  triumphant  way  to  the 
southward.  The  rich  bishopric  of  Wurtzburg  fell  into  his 
hands  almost  without  resistance.  Nuremburg  placed  itself  un- 
der his  protection.  The  nobility  and  citizens  of  Franconia  de- 
clared in  his  favour  as  soon  as  they  were  relieved  from  the  pre- 
sence of  the  Imperial  troops,  and,  when  his  drum  beat  for  rt;- 
cruits,  crowds  flocked  to  the  Swedish  standards.  He  pursued 
his  course  along  the  Maine  to  Frankfort,  which  opened  its  gates 
and  received  a  Swedish  garrison,  and,  being  strengthened  by  the 
junction  of  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse-Cassel  with  10,000  men, 
he  crossed  the  Rhine,  and,  after  a  short  siege,  became  master 
of  Mentz  by  capitulation,  December  13,  1631.  There  he  gave 
his  troops  a  few  weeks'  repose,  being  himself  busily  engaged  in 
diplomatic  labours.  Early  in  the  following  year  he  completed 
the  conquest  of  the  Palatinate,  and  threatened  to  carry  the 
war  into  Alsace  and  Lorraine. 

The  advance  of  Tilly  recalled  the  King  of  Sweden  into 
Franconia,  at  the  head  of  40,000  men.  Tilly  then  retreated 
into  Bavaria,  closely  followed  by  the  enemy,  who  passed  the 
Danube  at  Donawerth,  forced  the  passage  of  the  Lech,  and 
carried  the  war  into  the  3"et  uninjured  plains  of  Bavaria.  The 
passage  of  this  river  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  April  5,  is  re- 
garded as  one  of  the  King  of  Sweden's  most  remarkable  ex- 
ploits. His  old  antagonist  Tilly  received  a  mortal  wound  on 
this  day.  Munich,  the  capital  and  the.  greater  part  of  the 
electorate,  yielded  without  resistance.  The  emperor  was  now 
reduced  to  the  greatest  difficulties.  Bohemia  was  overrun  by 
the  Saxons  ;  the  Austrian  dominions  lay  open  to  invasion  from 
Bavaria ;  Tilly  was  dead  ;  the  Duke  of  Bavaria  discouraged  by 
his  reverses,  and  inclined  to  purchase  peace  by  consenting  to  a 
neutrality.  There  was  but  one  man  capable,  by  the  charm  of 
his  name  and  the  poWer  of  his  talents,  to  compete  with  Gusta- 
vus, and  he  was  Wallenstein.  In  his  retirement,  that  wildly 
ambitious  man  had  long  been  scheming  to  bring  his  master  to 
such  a  degree  of  abasement  as  should  enable  him  to  dictate  his 
own  terms  of  reconciliation  and  assistance ;  and  the  time  was 
come  when  the  emperor  saw  himself  obliged  to  consent  to  de- 
mands which  almost  superseded  his  own  authority  and  invested 


GUSTAVUS   ADOLPHUS.  266 

his  dangerous  subject  with  more  than  Imperial  power.  For  this 
event  Wallenstein's  plans  had  long  been  maturing.  A  power- 
ful army  started  up  at  once  at  his  command,  and,  when  it  suited 
his  secret  purposes  to  act,  Bohemia  was  cleared  of  the  Saxons 
more  quickly  than  it  had  been  conquered  by  them.  He  then 
formed  a  junction  with  the  Duke  of  Bavaria,  and  at  the  head 
of  60,000  men  advanced  against  Gustavus,  who,  not  having  above 
18,000  or  20,000  men  with  him,  intrenched  himself  strongly 
under  the  walls  of  Nuremburg.  Wallenstein  took  up  a  strong 
position  against  him,  and  the  two  generals,  each  hoping  to  ex- 
haust the  other  by  scarcity  of  provisions,  remained  inactive  till 
August  21,  when  Gustavus,  having  drawn  together  his  scat- 
tered forces,  made  a  desperate  and  fruitless  attempt  to  carry 
the  Imperial  lines.  Frustrated  in  this,  he  returned  to  his  en- 
campment, which  he  quitted  finally,  September  8,  and  marched 
into  Bavaria. 

Wallenstein  followed  his  example  on  the  12th,  and  retired 
without  any  hostile  attempt  on  Nuremburg.  He  had  deter- 
mined to  fix  his  winter  quarters  in  Saxony,  hoping  by  the  ter- 
ror of  his  arms  to  detach  the  elector  from  the  Swedish  alliance, 
and  had  already  advanced  beyond  Leipsic  on  his  march  against 
Dresden,  when  he  was  recalled  by  the  rapid  approach  of  the 
King  of  Sweden.  Gustavus  arrived  at  Nuremburg,  November  1,. 
and  intrenched  himself  there  to  wait  for  reinforcements,  which 
he  expected.  Wallenstein,  in  the  belief  that  his  adversary 
would  be  in  no  hurry  to  quit  his  strong  position,  proceeded  to 
canton  his  troops  near  Merseburg,  in  such  a  manner  that  they 
might  easily  be  called  into  action  a,t  the  shortest  notice,  and 
detached  Pappenheim,  with  a  large  division  of  the  army,  upon 
distant  service.  As  soon  as  Gustavus  heard  of  the  latter  move- 
ment, he  marched  in  haste  to  attack  the  diminished  enemy,  and 
Wallenstein,  though  with  inferior  troops,  was  not  slow  to  meet 
him.  The  King  of  Sweden's  la.st  victory  was  gained  Novem- 
ber 6,  1632,  in  the  plain  of  Lutzen.  Suffering  from  a  recent 
wound,  he  did  not  wear  armour,  and,  early  in  the  day,  as  he 
mingled  in  the  front  of  the  battle  with  his  usual  ardour,  his  left 
arm  was  broken  by  a  musket-ball.  As  he  retreated  from  the 
press,  he  received  another  bullet  in  the  back,  and  fell.  His 
body  was  stripped  by  the  Imperialists,  a  furious  contest  took 
place  for  the  possession  of  it,  and  it  was  soon  buried  under  a 
34  Z 


LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

2ieap  of  slain.     The  Duke  of  Weimar  took  the  chief  command, 
and  completed  the  victory. 

It  was  probably  fortunate  for  Gustavus's  honour  .that  his 
brilliant  career  was  here  cut  short.  He  died  when  no  moie 
successes  could  have  enhanced  the  fame  as  a  soldier  which  he 
had  already  acquired — at  a  period,  says  Schiller,  when  he  had 
ceased  to  be  the  benefactor  of  Germany,  and  when  the  great- 
est service  that  he  could  render  to  German  liberty  was  to  die. 
However  pure  his  views  had  been  at  the  commencement  of  the 
war,  success  had  taught  him  ambition.  This  was  shown  by  the 
homage  to  Sweden,  which  he  exacted  from  Augsburg  and  other 
free  cities  of  the  empire,  by  his  design  of  converting  the  arch- 
bishopric of  Mentz  into  an  appanage  of  Sweden,  and  by  his  reluc- 
tance to  reinstate  the  Elector  Palatine  in  the  conquered  Palati- 
nate, and  the  conditions  which  he  finally  exacted  for  so  doing. 
And  whether  or  not  he  aimed  at  the  Imperial  throne,  it  is  pro- 
bable that  his  life  and  prosperity  would  have  proved  no  less 
dangerous  to  the  constitution  of  Germany  and  the  welfare  of 
the  Catholic  states  than  to  the  Protestant,  the  ambition  of  Fer- 
dinand II.,  and  the  Catholic  League.  But,  dying  thus  early, 
he  has  preserved  the  reputation  of  sincere  piety,  humanity  in 
the  field,  heroic  courage,  consummate  policy,  and  skill  united 
to  success  in  the  art  of  war,  unequalled  by  any  general  since 
the  downfall  of  Rome.  Of  the  improvements  which  he  effected 
in  military  tactics,  we  have  no  room  to  speak.  A  full  account 
of  them,  and  of  his  whole  system,  will  be  found  in  the  Essay 
prefixed  to  Harte's  "  History  of  Gustavus  Adolphus."  A  more 
concise  and  spirited  account  of  the  King  of  Sweden's  exploits 
in  Germany  than  is  contained  in  that  laborious  book,  will  be 
found  in  Schiller's  "  History  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War,"  which 
is  translated  both  into  French  and  English. 


BLAISE   PASCAL. 


267 


BLAISE   PASCAL. 


N  June  19,  1623,  Blaise  Pascal  was  born  at 
z'  Clermont,  the  capital  of  Auvergne,  where  his 
father,  Stephen  Pascal,  held  a  high  legal 
office.  On  the  death  of  his  wife  in  1626, 
Stephen  resigned  his  professional  engage- 
ments, that  he  might  devote  himself  entirely 
to  the  education  of  his  family,  which  con- 
sisted only  of  Blaise  and  of  two  daughters. 
With  this  view  he  removed  to  Paris. 
The  elder  Pascal  was  a  man  of  great  moral 
worth,  and  of  a  highly  cultivated  mind.  He  was 
known  as  an  active  member  of  a  small  society  of 
philosophers,  to  which  the  Academic  Royale  des 
Sciences,  established  in  1666,  owed  its  origin.  Though 
himself  an  ardent  mathematician,  he  was  in  no  haste  to 
initiate  his  son  in  his  own  favourite  pursuits ;  but,  having 
a  notion,  not  very  uncommon,  that  the  cultivation  of  the  exact 
sciences  is  unfriendly  to  a  taste  for  general  literature,  he  began 
with  the  study  of  languages ;  and,  notwithstanding  many  plain 
indications  of  the  natural  bent  of  his  son's  genius,  he  forbade 
him  to  meddle,  even  in  thought,  with  the  mathematics.  Nature 
was  too  strong  for  parental  authority.  The  boy,  having  ex- 
tracted from  his  father  some  hints  as  to  the  subject  matter  of 
geometry,  went  to  work  by  himself,  drawing  circles  and  lines, 
or,  as  he  called  them  in  his  ignorance  of  the  received  nomen- 
clature, rounds  and  bars,  and  investigating  and  proving  the 
properties  of  his  various  figures,  till,  without  help  of  a  book  oi 
oral  instruction  of  any  kind,  he  had  advanced  as  far  as  the 
thirty-second  proposition  of  the  first  book  of  Euclid.  He  had 
perceived  that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  together  equal 
to  two  right  ones,  and  was  searching  for  a  satisfactory  proof, 
when   his  father  surprised  him  in  his  forbidden  speculations 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

The  figures  drawn  on  the  walls  of  his  bed-chamber  told  the  tale, 
and  a  few  questions  proved  that  his  head  had  been  employed 
as  well  as  his  fingers.  He  was  at  this  time  twelve  years  old. 
All  attempts  at  restriction  were  now  abandoned.  A  copy  of 
Euclid's  Elements  was  put  into  his  hands  by  his  father  himself, 
and  Blaise  became  a  confirmed  geometrician.  At  sixteen  he 
composed  a  treatise  on  the  Conic  Sections,  which  had  sufficient 
merit  to  induce  Descartes  obstinately  to  attribute  the  authorship 
to  the  elder  Pascal  or  Desargues. 

Such  was  his  progress  in  a  study  which  was  admitted  only  as 
the  amusement  of  his  idle  hours.  His  labours  under  his  father's 
direction  were  given  to  the  ancient  classics. 

Some  years  after  this,  the  elder  Pascal  had  occasion  to  em- 
ploy his  son  in  making  calculations  for  him.  To  facilitate  his 
labour,  Blaise  Pascal,  then  in  his  nineteenth  year,  invented  his 
famous  arithmetical  machine,  which  is  said  to  have  fully  answered 
its  purpose.  He  sent  this  machine  with  a  letter  to  Christina, 
the  celebrated  Queen  of  Sweden.  The  possibility  of  rendering 
such  inventions  generally  useful  has  been  stoutly  disputed  since 
the  days  of  Pascal.  This  question  will  soon  perhaps  be  set  at 
rest,  if  it  may  not  be  considered  as  already  answered,  by  the 
scientific  labours  of  an  accomplished  mathematician  of  our  own 
time. 

It  should  be  remarked  that  Pascal,  while  he  regarded  geome- 
try as  affording  the  highest  exercise  of  the  powers  of  the  human 
mind,  held  in  very  low  estimation  the  importance  of  its  practical 
results.  Hence  his  speculations  were  irregularly  turned  to 
various  unconnected  subjects,  as  his  curiosity  might  happen  to 
be  excited  by  them.  The  late  creation  of  a  sound  system  of 
experimental  philosophy  by  Galileo  had  roused  an  irresistible 
spirit  of  inquiry,  which  was  every  day  exhibiting  new  marvels; 
but  time  was  wanted  to  develope  the  valuable  fruits  of  its  dis- 
coveries, which  have  since  connected  the  most  abstruse  specula- 
tions of  the  philosopher  with  the  aff'airs  of  common  life. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  his  studious  hours  produced  much  that 
has  been  lost  to  the  world ;  but  many  proofs  remain  of  his  per- 
Bovering  activity  in  the  course  which  he  had  chosen.  Among 
them  may  be  mentioned  his  Arithmetical  Triangle,  with  the 
treatises  arising  out  of  it,  and  his  investigations  of  certain 
problems  relating  to  the  curve  called  by  mathematicians  the 


BLAISE   PASCAL.  269 

Cycloid,  to  which  he  turned  his  mind,  towards  the  close  of  his 
life,  to  divert  his  thoughts  in  a  season  of  severe  suffering.  For 
the  solution  of  these  problems,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the 
times,  he  publicly  offered  a  prize,  for  which  La  Loubero  and 
our  own  countryman  Wallis  contended.  It  was  adjudged  that 
neither  had  fulfilled  the  proposed  conditions ;  and  Pascal  pub- 
lished his  own  solutions,  which  raised  the  admiration  of  the 
scientific  world.  The  Arithmetical  Triangle  owed  its  existence 
to  questions  proposed  to  him  by  a  friend  respecting  the  calcu- 
lation of  probabilities  in  games  of  chance.  Under  this  name  is 
denoted  a  peculiar  arrangement  of  numbers  in  certain  propor- 
tions, from  which  the  answers  to  various  questions  of  chances, 
the  involution  of  binomials,  and  other  algebraical  problems,  may 
be  readily  obtained.  This  invention  led  him  to  inquire  further 
into  the  theory  of  chances ;  and  he  may  be  considered  as  one 
of  the  founders  of  that  branch  of  analysis,  which  has  grown  into 
such  importance  in  the  hands  of  La  Place. 

His  fame  as  a  man  of  science  does  not  rest  solely  on  his 
labours  in  geometry.  As  an  experimentalist  he  has  earned  no 
vulgar  celebrity.  He  Avas  a  young  man  when  the  interesting 
discoveries  in  pneumatics  were  working  a  grand  revolution  in 
natural  philosophy.  The  experiments  of  Torricelli  had  proved, 
what  his  great  master  Galileo  had  conjectured,  the  weight  and 
pressure  of  the  air,  and  had  given  a  rude  shock  to  the  old 
doctrine  of  the  schools  that  "Nature  abhors  a  vacuum;"  but 
many  still  clung  fondly  to  the  old  way,  and,  when  pressed  with 
the  fact  that  fluids  rise  in  an  exhausted  tube  to  a  certain  height, 
and  will  rise  no  higher,  though  with  a  vacuum  above  them,  still 
asserted  that  the  fluids  rose  because  nature  abhors  a  vacuum, 
but  qualified  their  assertion  with  an  admission  that  she  had 
some  moderation  in  her  abhorrence.  Having  satisfied  himself 
by  his  own  experiments  of  the  truth  of  Torricelli's  theory, 
Pascal  with  his  usual  sagacity  devised  the  means  of  satisfying 
all  who  were  capable  of  being  convinced.  He  reasoned  that  if, 
according  to  the  new  theory,  founded  on  the  experiments  made 
with  mercury,  the  weight  and  general  pressure  of  the  air  forced 
up  the  mercury  in  the  tube,  the  height  of  the  mercury  would 
be  in  proportion  to  the  height  of  the  column  of  incumbent  air ; 
in  other  words,  that  the  mercury  would  be  lower  at  the  top  of 
a  mountain  than  at  the  bottom  of  it:   on  the  other  hand,  that 

z2 


270  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

if  the  old  answer  were  the  right  one,  no  difference  would  appear 
from  the  change  of  situation.  Accordingly,  he  directed  the 
experiment  to  be  made  on  the  Puy  de  Dome,  a  lofty  mountain 
in  Auvergne,  and  the  height  of  the  barometer  at  the  top  and 
bottom  of  the  mountain  being  taken  at  the  same  moment,  a 
difference  of  more  than  three  inches  was  observed.  This  set 
the  question  at  rest  for  ever.  The  particular  notice  which  we 
have  taken  of  this  celebrated  experiment,  made  in  his  twenty- 
fifth  year,  may  be  justified  by  the  importance  attached  to  it  by 
no  mean  authority.  Sir  John  Herschell  observes,  in  his  Dis- 
course on  the  Study  of  Natural  Philosophy,  page  230,  that  "it 
tended  perhaps  more  powerfully  than  any  thing  which  had  pre- 
viously been  done  in  science  to  confirm  in  the  minds  of  men 
that  disposition  to  experimental  verification  which  had  scarcely 
yet  taken  full  and  secure  root." 

Whatever  may  be  the  value  of  the  fruits  of  Pascal's  genius, 
it  should  be  remembered  that  they  were  all  produced  within  the 
space  of  a  life  which  did  not  number  forty  years,  and  that  he 
was  so  miserably  the  victim  of  disease  that  from  the  time  of 
boyhood  he  never  passed  a  day  without  pain. 

His  health  had  probably  been  impaired  by  his  earlier  exer- 
tions ;  but  the  intense  mental  labour  expended  on  the  arithmeti- 
cal machine  appears  to  have  completely  undermined  his  con- 
stitutionj  and  to  have  laid  the  foundation  of  those  acute  bodily 
sufferings  which  cruelly  afflicted  him  during  the  remainder  of 
his  life.  His  friends,  with  the  hope  of  cliecking  the  evil,  sought 
to  withdraw  him  from  his  studies,  and  tempted  him  into  various 
modes  of  relaxation.  But  the  remedy  was  applied  too  late. 
The  death  of  his  father,  in  1651,  and  the  retirement  of  his  un- 
married sister  from  the  world  to  join  the  devout  recluses  of 
Port  Royal-des-Champs,  released  him  from  all  restraint.  He 
sadly  abused  this  liberty,  until  the  frightful  aggravation  of  his 
complaints  obliged  him  to  abandon  altogether  his  scientific 
pursuits,  and  reluctantly  to  follow  the  advice  of  his  physicians, 
to  mix  more  freely  in  general  society.  He  obtained  some  relief 
from  medicine  and  change  of  habits:  but,  in  1654,  an  accident 
both  made  his  recovery  hopeless,  and  destroyed  the  relish  which 
he  had  begun  to  feel  for  social  life.  He  was  in  his  carriage  on 
the  Pont  de  Neuilly,  at  a  part  of  the  bridge  which  was  unpro- 
tected by  a  parapet,  when  two  of  the  horses  became  unruly, 


BLAISE   PASCAL.  271 

and  plunged  into  the  Seine.  The  traces  broke,  and  Pascal  was 
thus  saved  from  instant  death.  He  considered  that  he  had 
received  a  providentiar  warning  of  the  uncertainty  of  life,  and 
retired  finally  from  the  world,  to  make  more  earnest  preparation 
for  eternity.  This  accident  gave  the  last  shock  to  his  already 
shattered  nerves,  and  to  a  certain  extent  disordered  his  imagi- 
nation. The  image  of  his  late  danger  was  continually  before 
him,  and  at  times  he  fancied  himself  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice. 
The  evil  probably  was  increased  by  the  rigid  seclusion  to  which 
from  this  time  he  condemned  himself,  and  by  the  austerities 
which  he  inflicted  on  his  exhausted  frame.  His  powerful  in- 
tellect survived  the  wreck  of  his  constitution,  and  he  gave  ample 
proof  to  the  last  that  its  vigour  was  unimpaired. 

In  his  religious  opinions  he  agreed  with  the  Jansenists,  and, 
without  being  formally  enrolled  in  their  society,  was  on  terms 
of  intimate  friendship  with  those  pious  and  learned  members  of 
the  sect,  who  had  established  themselves  in  the  wilds  of  Port 
Royal.  His  advocacy  of  their  cause  at  a  critical  time  was  so 
important  to  his  fame  and  to  literature,  that  a  few  words  may 
be  allowed  on  the  circumstances  which  occasioned  it. 

The  Jansenists,  though  they  earnestly  deprecated  the  name 
of  heretics,  and  were  most  fiercely  opposed  to  the  Huguenots 
and  other  Protestants,  did  in  fact  nearly  approach,  in  many 
points,  the  reformed  churches,  and  departed  widely  from  the 
fashionable  standard  of  orthodoxy  in  their  own  communion. 
They  were  in  the  first  instance  brought  into  collision  with  their 
great  enemies,  the  Jesuits,  by  the  opinions  which  they  held  on 
the  subjects  of  grace  and  free-will.  As  the  controversy  pro- 
ceeded, the  points  of  difi'erence  between  the  contending  parties 
became  more  marked  and  more  numerous.  The  rigid  system 
of  morals  taught  and  observed  by  the  Jansenists,  and  the 
superior  regard  which  they  paid  to  personal  holiness  in  com- 
parison with  ceremonial  worship,  appeared  in  advantageous 
contrast  with  the  lax  morality  and  formal  religion  of  the  Jesuits. 
Hence,  though  there  was  much  that  was  repulsive  in  their  dis- 
cipline, and  latterly,  not  a  little  that  was  exceptionable  in  their 
conduct,  they  could  reckon  in  their  ranks  many  of  the  most 
enlightened  as  well  as  the  most  pious  Christians  in  France.  It 
was  natural  that  Pascal,  who  was  early  impressed  with  the 
deepest   reverence  for  religion,  should  be  attracted  to  a  party 


272  LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

which  seemed  at  least  to  be  in  earnest,  while  others  were  asleep , 
and  it  is  more  a  matter  of  regret  than  of  surprise,  that  latterly, 
in  his  state  of  physical  weakness  and  nervous  excitement,  he 
should  have  been  partially  warped  from  his  sobriety  by  inter- 
course with  men  whose  Christian  zeal  was  in  too  many  instances 
disfigured  by  a  visionary  and  enthusiastic  spirit.  The  papal 
court  at  first  dealt  with  them  tenderly ;  for  it  was,  in  truth,  no 
easy  matter  to  condemn  their  founder,  Jansenius,  without  con- 
demning its  own  great  doctor,  the  celebrated  Augustin.  But 
the  vivacious  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne,  on  the  publication  of  a 
letter  by  the  Jansenist  Arnauld,  took  fire,  and  by  their  eager- 
ness kindled  a  flame  that  wellnigh  consumed  their  own  church. 

While  they  were  in  deliberation  on  the  misdoings  of  Arnauld, 
Pascal  put  forth,  under  the  name  of  Louis  de  Montalte,  the 
first  of  that  series  of  letters  to  "a  friend  in  the  country," — a 
un  provincial  par  un  de  ses  amis — which,  w^hen  afterwards  col- 
lected, received,  by  an  absurd  misnomer,  the  title  of  the  Pro- 
vincial Letters  of  Pascal.  In  these  letters,  after  having  ex- 
hibited in  a  light  irresistibly  ludicrous,  the  disputes  of  the 
Sorbonne,  he  proceeds  with  the  same  weapon  of  ridicule,  all- 
powerful  in  his  hand,  to  hold  forth  to  derision  and  contempt  the 
profligate  casuistry  of  the  Jesuits.  For  much  of  his  matter  he 
was  undoubtedly  indebted  to  his  Jansenist  friends ;  and  it  is 
commonly  said  that  he  was  taught  by  them  to  reproach  unfairly 
the  whole  body  of  Jesuits  with  the  faults  of  some  obscure 
writers  of  their  order.  These  writers,  however,  were  at  least 
well  known  to  the  Jesuits ;  their  writings  had  gone  through 
numerous  editions  with  approbation,  and  had  infused  some  por- 
tion of  their  spirit  into  more  modern  and  popular  tracts. 
Moreover,  the  Society  of  Jesuits,  constituted  as  it  was,  had 
ready  means  of  relieving  itself  from  the  discredit  of  such  in- 
famous publications ;  yet  among  the  many  works  which  by 
their  help  found  a  place  in  the  index  of  prohibited  books,  Pascal 
might  have  looked  in  vain  for  the  works  of  their  own  Escobar. 
However  this  may  be,  it  is  universally  acknowledged  that  the 
credit  of  the  Jesuits  sunk  under  the  blow,  that  these  letters  are 
a  splendid  monument  of  the  genius  of  Pascal,  and  that,  as  a 
literary  work,  they  have  placed  him  in  the  very  first  rank  among 
the  French  classics. 

It  seems  that  he  had  formed  a  design,  even  in  the  height  of 


BLAISE   PASCAL.  27S 

his  scientific  ardour,  of  executing  some  great  work  for  the 
benefit  of  religion.  This  design  took  a  more  definite  shape 
after  Lis  retirement,  and  he  communicated  orally  to  his  friends 
the  sketch  of  a  comprehensive  work  on  the  Evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity, which  his  early  death,  together  with  his  increasing 
bodily  infirmities,  prevented  him  from  completing.  Nothing 
was  left  but  unconnected  fragments,  containing  for  the  most 
part  his  thoughts  on  subjects  apparently  relating  to  his  great 
design,  hastily  written  on  small  scraps  of  paper,  without  order 
Dr  arrangement  of  any  kind.  They  were  published  in  1670, 
with  some  omissions,  by  his  friends  of  Port  Royal,  and  were 
afterwards  given  to  the  world  entire,  under  the  title  of  the 
Thoughts  of  Pascal.  Many  of  the  thoughts  are  such  as  we 
should  expect  from  a  man  who,  with  a  mind  distinguished  for 
its  originality,  with  an  intimate  knowledge  of  Scripture,  and 
lively  piety,  had  meditated  much  and  earnestly  on  the  subject 
of  religion.  In  a  book  so  published,  it  is  of  course  easy  enough 
to  find  matter  for  censure  and  minute  criticism ;  but  most  Chris- 
tian writers  have  been  content  to  bear  testimony  to  its  beauties, 
and  to  borrow  largely  from  its  rich  and  varied  stores.  Among 
the  editors  of  the  Thoughts  of  Pascal  are  found  Condorcet  and 
Voltaire,  who  enriched  their  editions  with  a  commentary.  With 
what  sort  of  spirit  they  entered  on  their  work  may  be  guessed 
from  Voltaire's  well-known  advice  to  his  brother  philosopher : — 
"Never  be  weary,  my  friend,  of  repeating  that  the  brain  of 
Pascal  was  turned  after  his  accident  on  the  Pont  de  Neuilly." 
Condorcet  was  not  the  man  to  be  weary  in  such  an  employment ; 
but  here  he  had  to  deal  with  stubborn  facts.  The  brain  of 
Pascal  produced  after  the  accident  not  only  the  Thoughts,  but 
also  the  Provincial  Letters,  and  the  various  treatises  on  the 
Cycloid,  the  last  of  which  was  written  not  long  before  his  death. 

He  died  August  19th,  1662,  aged  thirty-nine  years  and  two 
months. 

By  those  who  knew  him  personally,  he  is  said  to  have  been 
mrdest  and  reserved  in  his  manners,  but  withal,  ready  to  enliven 
co'aversation  with  that  novelty  of  remark  and  variety  of  in- 
formation which  might  be  expected  from  his  well-stored  and 
original  mind.  That  spirit  of  raillery  which  should  belong  to 
the  author  of  the  Provincial  Letters  showed  itself  also  occa- 
85 


274  LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 

sioiially  in  his  talk,  but  always  with  a  cautious  desire  not  t/) 
give  needless  pain  or  offence. 

He  seemed  to  have  constantly  before  his  eyes  the  privations 
»md  sufferings  to  which  a  large  portion  of  the  human  race  is 
exposed,  and  to  receive  almost  with  trembling  those  indulgences 
which  were  denied  to  others.  Thus,  when  curtailing  his  ow^n 
comforts  that  he  might  perform  more  largely  the  duties  of 
charity,  he  seemed  only  to  be  disencumbering  himself  of  that 
which  he  could  not  safely  retain. 

As  a  philosopher,  it  is  the  great  glory  of  Pascal  that  he  is 
numbered  with  that  splendid  phalanx  which,  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  following  the  path  opened  by  Galileo,  assisted  to  over- 
throw the  tyranny  of  the  schools,  and  to  break  down  the  fences 
which  for  ages  had  obstructed  the  progress  of  real  knowledge ; 
men  who  were  indeed  benefactors  to  science,  and  who  have  also 
left  behind  them  for  general  use  an  encouraging  proof  that  the 
most  inveterate  prejudices,  the  most  obstinate  attachment  to 
established  errors,  and  hostility  to  improvement,  may  be  over- 
come by  resolute  perseverance  and  a  bold  reliance  on  the  final 
victory  of  truth.  No  one,  however,  will  coldly  measure .  the 
honour  due  to  this  extraordinary  man  by  his  actual  contribu- 
tions to  the  cause  of  science  or  literature.  The  genius  of  the 
child  anticipated  manhood :  his  more  matured  intellect  could 
only  show  promises  of  surpassing  glory  when  it  escaped  from 
the  weak  frame  in  which  it  was  lodged. 

For  further  information,  the  reader  is  referred  to  the  dis- 
course on  the  life  and  works  of  Pascal,  which  first  appeared  in 
the  complete  edition  of  his  works  in  1779,  and  has  since  been 
published  separately  at  Paris ;  to  the  Biographic  Universelle ; 
and  to  the  life  of  Pascal,  written  by  his  sister,  Madame  Perier, 
which  is  prefixed  to  her  edition  of  his  Thoughts. 


JEREMY   TAYLOR. 


275 


JEREMY  TAYLOR. 


F  this  great  ornament  of  the  Episcopal  church 
did  not  boast  of  an  exalted  lineage,  he  num- 
bered among  his  forefathers  one  at  least  (the 
worthy  ancestor  of  such  a  descendant,  Dr. 
Rowland  Taylor,  chaplain  to  Cranmer,  and 
rector  of  Hadleigh)  distinguished  among  the 
divines  of  the  Reformation  for  his  abilities, 
learning,  and  piety,  as  well  as  for  the  courage- 
ous cheerfulness  with  which  he  suffered  death  at 
the  stake,  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Mary.  Jeremy 
Taylor  was  the  son  of  a  barber,  resident  in  Trinity 
parish,  Cambridge ;  and  was  baptized  in  Trinity 
church,  August  15,  1613.  He  was  "grounded  in 
grammar  and  mathematics"  by  his  father,  and  entered 
as  a  sizar  at  Caius  College,  August  18,  1626.  Of  his 
deportment,  his  studies,  even  of  the  honours  and  emolu- 
ments of  his  academical  life,  Ave  have  no  certain  knowledge.  It 
is  stated  by  Dr.  Rust,  in  his  funeral  sermon,  that  Taylor  was 
elected  Fellow  :  but  this  is  at  least  doubtful,  for  no  record  of 
the  fact  exists  in  the  registers  of  the  college.  He  proceeded  to 
the  degree  of  M.  A.  in  1633  ;  and  in  the  same  year,  though  at 
the  early  age  of  twenty,  we  find  him  in  orders,  and  officiating 
as  a  divinity  lecturer  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral.  His  talents  as  a 
preacher  attracted  the  notice  of  Archbishop  Laud,  who  sent  for 
him  to  preach  at  Lambeth,  and  approved  of  his  performance, 
but  thought  him  too  young.  Taylor  begged  his  grace's  pardon 
for  that  fault,  and  promised  that,  if  he  lived,  he  would  mend  it. 
By  that  prelate's  interest,  he  was  admitted  to  the  degree  of 
M.  A.  ad  eundem,  in  University  College,  Oxford,  October  20, 
1635,  and  shortly  after,  nominated  to  a  fellowship  at  All  Souls 
College.  It  was  probably  through  the  interest  of  the  same 
powerful  patron  that  he  obtained  the  rectory  of  Uppingham  in 


276  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

Rutlandshire,  tenable  with  his  fellowship,  March  23, 1638.  The 
fellowship,  however,  he  vacated  by  his  marriage  with  Phoebe 
Langsdale,  May  27,  1639,  who  died  in  little  more  than  three 
years,  leaving  two  sons. 

Taylor  attracted  notice  at  Oxford  by  his  talents  as  a  preacher ; 
but  he  does  not  seem  to  have  commenced,  during  this  period  of 
ease  and  tranquillity,  any  of  those  great  works  which  have  ren- 
dered him  illustrious  as  one  of  the  most  laborious,  eloquent,  and 
persuasive  of  British  divines.  The  only  sermon  extant  which 
we  can  distinctly  refer  to  this  period  is  one  preached  by  com- 
mand of  the  vice-chancellor,  on  the  anniversary  of  the  Gunpow- 
der plot,  1638.  This  piece  requires  notice,  because  it  is  con- 
nected with  a  report,  circulated  both  during  Taylor*s  residence 
at  Oxford  and  afterwards,  that  he  was  secretly  inclined  to 
popery.  It  is  even  said  that  he  "  wished  to  be  confirmed  a 
member  of  the  church  of  Rome,"*  but  was  rejected  with  scorn, 
in  consequence  of  the  things  advanced  against  that  church  in 
this  sermon.  Of  this  whole  statement,  Bishop  Heber,  in  his 
*'Life  of  Taylor,"  has  expressed  his  disbelief;  and  the  argu- 
ments on  which  his  opinion  is  founded  appear  to  us  satisfactory. 
Not  even  during  his  peaceable  abode  at  Uppingham  do  Taylor's 
great  works  appear  to  have  been  projected,  as  if  his  amiable, 
affectionate,  and  zealous  temper  had  been  fully  occupied  by 
domestic  cares  and  pleasures,  and  by  the  constant  though  quiet 
duties  of  a  parish  priest.  The  year  1642,  as  it  witnessed  the 
overthrow  of  his  domestic  happiness  by  his  wife's  death,  saw 
also  the  beginning  of  those  troubles  which  cast  him  out  of  his 
church  preferment — a  homeless  man.  We  do  not  know  the  date 
of  the  sequestration  of  his  living ;  but  as  he  joined  Charles  I. 
at  Oxford  in  the  autumn  of  the  year;  published  in  the  same 
year,  by  the  king's  command,  his  treatise  "Of  the  Sacred  Ordei 
and  Offices  of  Episcopacy,  &c. ;"  was  created  D.  D.  by  royal 
mandate ;  appointed  chaplain  to  the  king,  in  which  capacity  he 
frequently  preached  at  Oxford,  and  attended  the  royal  army  in 
the  wars ;  it  is  probable  that  he  was  among  the  first  of  those 
who  paid  the  penalty  of  adhering  to  the  losing  cause.  Little 
is  known  of  this  portion  of  Taylor's  history.  It  appears  that 
he  quitted  the  army,  and  retired  into  Wales,  where  he  married, 

*  Wood.  Athence  Oxon. 


J±;KEMY    TAYLOR.  277 

becaciB  again  involved  in  the  troubles  of  war,  and  was  taken 
prisoner  at  Cardigan,  February  4,  1644.  We  do. not  know  the 
date  of  his  release,  or  of  his  marriage  to  his  second  wife,  Joanna 
Bridges,  a  lady  possessed  of  some  landed  property  at  Mandi- 
nam,  near  Golden  Grove,  in  the  Vale  of  Towy,  in  Carmarthen- 
shire, who  was  commonly  said  to  be  a  natural  daughter  of 
Charles  I.,  born  before  his  marriage.  But  Heber  conjectures 
that  Taylor's  marriage  was  anterior  to  his  imprisonment,  and 
that  his  wife's  estate  was  amerced  in  a  heavy  fine,  in  conse- 
quence of  his  being  found  engaged  in  the  royal  cause  at  Cardi- 
gan. It  is  at  least  certain  that,  until  the  Restoration,  he  was 
very  poor,  and  that  he  supported  himself  during  part  of  the 
time  by  keeping  a  school. 

During  this  period  of  public  confusion  and  domestic  trouble, 
Taylor  composed  an  «' Apology  for  authorized  and  set  Forms 
of  Liturgy,"  published  in  1646,  and  his  great  work,  a  "Dis- 
course on  the  Liberty  of  Prophesying,"  published  in  1647,  "the 
first  attempt  on  record  to  conciliate  the  minds  of  Christians  to 
the  reception  of  a  doctrine  which,  though  now  the  rule  of  action 
professed  by  all  Christian  sects,  was  then,  by  all  sects  alike, 
regarded  as  a  perilous  and  portentous  novelty."*  As  such,  it 
was  received  with  distrust,  if  not  disapprobation,  by  all  parties ; 
and  if  it  was  intended  to  inculcate  upon  the  Episcopalians  the 
propriety  of  conceding  something  to  the  prejudices  of  their  op- 
ponents, as  well  as  to  procure  an  alleviation  of  the  oppression 
exercised  on  the  Episcopal  church,  we  may  see  in  the  conduct 
of  the  government  after  the  Restoration,  that  Taylor  preached 
a  doctrine  for  which  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  were  then 
ripe.  It  is  the  more  to  his  honour  that  in  this  important  point 
of  Christian  charity  he  had  advanced  beyond  his  own  party,  as 
well  as  those  by  whom  his  party  was  then  persecuted.  But 
though  his  views  were  extended  enough  to  meet  with  disappro- 
bation from  his  contemporaries,  he  gives  a  greater  latitude  to 
the  civil  power  in  repressing  error  by  penal  means  than  the 
general  practice,  at  least  in  Protestant  countries,  would  now 
grant.  "  The  forbearance  which  he  claims,  he  claims  for  those 
Christians  only  who  unite  in  the  confession  of  the  Apostles' 
Oreed,"  and  he  advocates  the  drawing  together  of  all  who  will 


*  Heber's  Life  of  Taylor,  p.  xxvii. 
2  A 


278  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

subscribe  to  that  ancient  and  comprehensive  form  of  belief  into 
one  church,  forgetting  differences  which  do  not  involve  the  fun- 
damental points  of  Christianity.  And  he  inculcates  the  "  dan- 
ger and  impropriety  of  driving  men  into  schism  by  multiplying 
symbols  and  subscriptions,  and  contracting  the  bounds  of  com- 
munion, and  the  still  greater  wickedness  of  regarding  all  dis- 
crepant opinions  as  damnable  m  the  life  to  come,  and  in  the 
present  capital."  For  a  fuller  account  of  this  remarkable  work, 
we  refer  to  the  Life  by  Heber,  p.  201 — 218,  or,  still  better,  to 
the  original. 

It  was  followed,  at  no  long  interval,  by  the  '« Great  Exemplar 
of  Sanctity  and  Holy  Life,  described  in  the  Life  and  Death  of 
Jesus  Christ."  This,  the  first  of  Taylor's  great  works  which 
became  extensively  popular,  is  almost  entirely  practical  in  its 
tendency,  having  been  composed,  as  the  author  tells  us,  with 
the  intention  of  drawing  men's  minds  from  controverted  doc- 
trines, to  the  vital  points  on  which  all  men  are  agreed,  but 
which  all  men  forget  so  easily.  It  is  not  an  attempt  to  connect 
the  relations  of  the  four  Evangelists  into  one  complete  and 
chronologically  consistent  account ;  but  a  "  series  of  devout 
meditations  on  the  different  events  recorded  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment, as  well  as  on  the  more  remarkable  traditions  which  have 
usually  been  circulated  respecting  the  Divine  Author  of  our 
religion,  his  earthly  parent,  and  his  followers,"  set  off  by  that 
majestic  style,  that  store  of  illustrations  derived  from  the  most 
recondite  and  miscellaneous  learning,  and,  above  all,  that  fer- 
vent and  poetical  imagination,  by  which  Taylor  is  distinguished 
perhaps  above  all  the  prose  writers  in  our  language.  Such 
qualities,  even  without  a  digested  plan  and  connected  strain  of 
argument,  which,  requiring  a  more  continuous  and  attentive 
perusal,  would  not  perhaps  have  made  the  book  more  acceptable 
or  useful  to  the  bulk  of  readers,  insured  for  it  a  favourable 
reception ;  and  the  author  followed  up  the  impression  which  he 
had  produced,  at  no  distant  period,  by  two  other  treatises  of  a 
similar  practical  tendency,  which,  from  their  comparative  short- 
ness, are  better  known  than  any  other  of  Taylor's  works,  and 
probably  have  been  as  extensively  read  as  any  devotional  books 
in  the  English  language.  We  speak  of  the  treatises  on  Ii<;ly 
Living  and  on  Holy  Dying. 

It  has  been   mentioned   that  near   Mandinam  stooc^   Golden 


JEREMY    TAYLOR.  279 

Grove,  the  seat  of  the  Earl  of  Carbery,  a  nobleman  distinguished 
by  his  abilities  and  zeal  in  the  royal  cause.  He. proved  a  con- 
stant  and  sincere  friend  to  Taylor;  and  the  grateful  scholar 
has  conferred  celebrity  upon  the  name  and  hospitality  of  Golden 
Grove  by  his  "  Guide  to  Infant  Devotion,"  or  manual  of  daily 
prayers,  which  are  called  by  the  name  of  that  place,  in  which 
they,  and  many  other  of  the  author's  works,  were  meditated : 
especially  his  Eniautos,  or  course  of  sermons  for  all  the  Sundays 
in  the  year. 

Considerable  obscurity  hangs  over  this  portion  of  Taylor's 
life :  but  it  appears  that  in  the  years  1654-5,  he  was  twice  im- 
prisoned, in  consequence  of  his  advocacy  of  the  fallen  causes  of 
episcopacy  and  royalty.  At  some  time  in  1654,  he  formed  an 
acquaintance  with  Evelyn,  which  proved  profitable  and  honour- 
able to  both  parties ;  for  the  layman,  as  is  evident  from  his 
Memoirs  and  Diary,  highly  valued  and  laid  to  heart  the  counsels 
of  the  man  whom  he  selected  as  his  "ghostly  father,"  and  to 
whose  poverty  he  liberally  ministered  in  return  out  of  his  own 
abundance. 

We  learn  from  Evelyn's  Diary  that  Taylor  was  in  London  in 
the  spring  of  1657,  and  his  visits,  if  not  annual,  were  at  least 
frequent.  He  made  many  friends,  and  among  them  the  Earl 
of  Conway,  a  nobleman,  possessed  of  large  estates  in  the  north- 
east of  Ireland,  who  conceived  the  desire  of  securing  Taylor's 
eminent  abilities  for  the  service  of  his  own  neighbourhood,  and 
obtained  for  him  a  lectureship  in  the  small  towm  of  Lisburne. 
Taylor  removed  his  family  to  Ireland  in  the  summer  of  1658. 
He  dwelt  near  Portmore,  his  patron's  splendid  seat  on  the  banks 
of  Lough  Neagh ;  and  some  of  the  islands  in  that  noble  lake, 
and  in  a  smaller  neighbouring  piece  of  water  called  Lough  Beg, 
are  still  recorded,  by  the  traditions  of  the  peasantry,  to  have 
been  his  favourite  places  of  study  and  retirement.  To  this 
^bode,  his  letters  show  him  to  have  been  much  attached. 

In  the  spring  of  1660,  Taylor  visited  London  to  superintend 
in  its  passage  through  the  press  the  "  Rule  of  Conscience,  or 
Ductor  Dubitantium."  This,  it  appears  from  the  author's  let- 
ters, was  considerably  advanced  so  early  as  the  year  1655.  It 
was  the  fruit  of  much  time,  much  diligence,  and  much  prayer ; 
and  that  of  all  his  writings  concerning  the  execution  of  which 
he  seems  to  have  felt  most  anxiety.     In  this  case,  as  it  often 


280  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

happens,  the  author  seems  to  have  formed  an  erroneous  esti- 
mate of  the  comparative  value  of  his  works.  Neither,  on  its 
first  appearance,  nor  in  later  times,  did  the  '^  Ductor  Dubitan- 
tium"  become  extensively  popular.  Its  object,  which  even 
at  the  first  was  accounted  obsolete,  was  to  supply  what  the 
Romish  church  obtained  by  the  practice  of  confession,  a  set  of 
rules  by  which  a  scrupulous  conscience  may  be  guided  in  the 
variety  of  doubtful  points  of  duty  which  may  occur.  The  abuses 
are  well  known,  to  which  the  casuistic  subtlety  of  the  Romish 
doctors  gave  birth ;  and  it  may  be  doubted  whether  it  were  wise 
to  lay  one  stone  towards  rebuilding  an  edifice  which  the  general 
diffusion  of  the  Scriptures,  a  sufficient  rule,  if  rightly  studied, 
to  solve  all  doubts,  had  rendered  -unnecessary.  The  work,  in 
spite  of  its  passages  of  eloquence  and  profusion  of  learning,  is 
too  prolix  to  be  a  favourite  in  these  latter  days,  but  it  is  still, 
says  his  biographer,  one  "  which  few  can  read  without  profit, 
and  none,  I  think,  without  entertainment.  It  resembles  in  some 
degree  those  ancient  inlaid  cabinets,  (such  as  Evelyn,  Boyle,  oi 
Wilkins  might  have  bequeathed  to  their  descendants,)  whose 
multifarious  contents  perplex  our  choice,  and  offer  to  the  admi- 
ration or  curiosity  of  a  more  accurate  age,  a  vast  wilderness  of 
trifles  and  varieties  with  no  arrangement  at  all,  or  an  arrange- 
ment on  obsolete  principles,  but  whose  ebony  drawers  and  per- 
fumed recesses  contain  specimens  of  every  thing  that  is  precious 
or  uncommon,  and  many  things  for  which  a  modern  museum 
might  be  searched  in  vain." 

Taylor's  accidental  presence  in  London  at  this  period,  when 
the  hopes  of  the  royalists  were  reviving,  was  probably  service- 
able to  his  future  fortunes.  He  obtained  by  it  the  opportunity 
of  joining  in  the  royalist  declaration  of  April  24  :  and  he  was 
among  the  first  to  derive  benefit  from  the  restoration  of  that 
king  and  that  church,  of  whose  interests  he  had  ever  been  a 
most  zealous,  able,  and  consistent  supporter.  He  was  nomi- 
nated Bishop  of  Down  and  Connor,  August  6,  1660,  and  con- 
secrated in  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral,  January  27,  1661.  In  the 
interval,  he  was  appointed  vice-chancellor  of  the  University  of 
Dublin,  which,  during  past  troubles,  had  been  greatly  dilapi- 
dated and  disoi'Hered  in  respect  both  of  its  revenues  and  disci- 
pline     He  was  the   principal  instrument  in  remodelling  and 


JEREMY   TAYLOR.  281 

completing  the  statutes,  and  settling  the  University'  in  its  pre- 
sent form. 

In  the  spring  of  1661,  Taylor  was  made  a  member  of  the 
Irish  Privy  Council,  and  the  small  diocese  of  Dromore,  adjacent 
to  Down,  was  assigned  to  his  charge,  <'  on  account,"  in  words  of 
the  writ  under  the  Privy  Seal,  "of  his  virtue,  wisdom,  and 
industry."  This  praise  was  well-deserved  by  his  conduct  in 
that  difficult  time,  when  those  who  had  displaced  the  Episcopal 
clergy  were  apprehensive  of  being  in  their  turn  obliged  to  give 
way,  and  religious  differences  were  embittered  by  thoughts  of 
temporal  welfare.  Taylor  had  to  deal  chiefly  with  the  wilder 
and  more  enthusiastic  party,  and  his  advances  towards  an  inter- 
course of  Christian  charity  were  met  with  scorn  and  insult.  But 
his  exemplary  conduct  and  persevering  gentleness  of  demeanour 
did  much  to  soften  at  least  the  laity  of  his  opponents ;  for  we 
are  told  that  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  the  three  dioceses  over 
which  he  presided  came  over,  with  one  exception,  to  the 
bishop's  side. 

His  varied  duties  can  now  have  left  little  time  for  the  labour 
of  the  pen ;  still  he  published  sermons  from  time  to  time,  and 
in  1664  completed  and  published  his  last  great  work,  a  "Dis- 
suasive from  Popery,"  undertaken  by  desire  of  the  collective 
body  of  Irish  bishops.  He  continued,  after  his  elevation,  to 
reside  principally  at  Portmore,  occasionally  at  Lisburne.  Of 
his  habits,  and  the  incidents  of  this  latter  part  of  his  life,  we 
know  next  to  nothing ;  except  that  he  suffered  the  severest 
affliction  which  could  befall  a  man  of  his  sensibility  and  piety, 
in  the  successive  deaths  of  his  three  surviving  sons,  and  the  mis- 
conduct of  two  of  them.  One  died  at  Lisburne,  in  March,  1661 ; 
one  fell  in  a  duel,  his  adversary  also  dying  of  his  wounds ;  the 
third  became  the  favourite  companion  of  the  profligate  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  and  died  of  a  decline,  August  2,  1667.  Of  the 
latter  event,  the  bishop  can  scarcely  have  heard,  for  he  died  on 
the  13th  of  the  same  month,  after  ten  days'  sickness.  He  was 
buried  at  Dromore.  Two  of  his  daughters  married  in  Ireland, 
into  the  families  of  Marsh  and  Harrison  ;  and  several  Irish 
families  of  repute  claim  to  be  connected  with  the  blood  of  this 
exemplary  prelate  by  the  female  line. 

The  materials  for  Bishop  Taylor's  life  are  very  scanty.  The 
earliest  sketch  of  it  is  to  be  found  in  the  funeral  sermon  preached 
36  2  a2 


282  LIVES    OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

by  his  friend  and  successor  in  the  see  of  Dromore,  Dr.  Rust, 
who  sums  up  the  virtues  of  the  deceased  in  a  peroration  of 
highly- wrought  panegyric,  of  which  the  following  just  eulogy  is 
a  part — "  He  was  a  person  of  great  humility ;  and,  notwith- 
standing his  stupendous  parts,  and  learning,  and  eminency  of 
place,  he  had  nothing  in  him  of  pride  and  humour,  but  was 
courteous  and  affable,  and  of  easy  access,  and  would  lend  a 
ready  ear  to  the  complaints,  yea,  to  the  impertinence,  of  the 
meanest  persons.  His  humility  was  coupled  with  an  extraordi- 
nary piety ;  and  I  believe  he  spent  the  greatest  part  of  his  time 
in  heaven.  *  *  >k  q^q  gjj  \^[^  other  virtues  he  added  a  large 
and  diffusive  charity ;  and  whoever  compares  his  plentiful  income 
with  the  inconsiderable  estate  he  left  at  his  death,  will  be  easily 
convinced  that  charity  was  steward  for  a  great  proportion  of 
his  revenue.  But  the  hungry  that  he  fed,  and  the  naked  that 
he  clothed,  and  the  distressed  that  he  supplied,  and  the  father- 
less that  he  provided  for,  the  poor  children  that  he  put  to 
apprentice,  and  brought  up  at  school,  and  maintained  at  the 
university,  will  now  sound  a  trumpet  to  that  charity  which  he 
dispensed  with  his  right  hand,  but  would  not  suffer  his  left  hand 
to  have  any  knowledge  of  it. 

<'  To  sum  up  all  in  a  few  words,  this  great  prelate  had  the 
good  humour  of  a  gentleman,  the  eloquence  of  an  orator,  the 
fancy  of  a  poet,  the  acuteness  of  a  schoolman,  the  profoundness 
of  a  philosopher,  the  wisdom  of  a  counsellor,  the  sagacity  of  a 
prophet,  the  reason  of  an  angel,  and  the  piety  of  a  saint ;  he 
had  devotion  enough  for  a  cloister,  learning  enough  for  an  uni- 
versity^, and  wit  enough  for  a  college  of  virtuosi ;  and  had  his 
parts  and  endowments  been  parcelled  out  among  his  poor  clergy 
that  he  left  behind  him,  it  would  perhaps  have  made  one  of  the 
best  dioceses  in  the  world.  But,  alas !  '  Our  Father !  our  Father  !• 
the  horses  of  our  Israel,  and  the  chariots  thereof!'  he  is  gone, 
and  has  carried  his  mantle  and  his  spirit  along  with  him  up  to 
heaven  ;  and  the  sons  of  the  prophets  have  lost  ill  their  beauty 
and  lustre  which  they  enjoyed  only  from  the  reflection  of  his 
excellencies,  which  were  bright  and  radiant  enough  to  cast  a 
glory  upon  a  whole  order  of  men." 


SIR   MATTHEW   HALE. 


283 


SIR  MATTHEW  HALE. 


ATTHEW  HALE  was  born  on  the  1st  of 
November,  1609,  at  Alderley,  a  small  village 
situated  in  Gloucestershire,  about  two  miles 
from  Wotton-under-Edge.  His  father,  Robert 
Hale,  was  a  barrister  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  and 
his  mother,  whose  maiden  name  was  Poyntz, 
belonged  to  an  ancient  and  respectable  family 
which  had  resided  for  several  generations  at 
Ton  Acton.  Hale's  father  is  represented  to 
have  been  a  man  of  such  scrupulous  delicacy  of 
conscience,  that  he  abandoned  his  profession,  be- 
cause he  thought  that  some  things,  of  ordinary 
practice  in  the  law,  were  inconsistent  with  that  literal 
D  and  precise  observance  of  truth  which  he  conceived  to 
be  the  duty  of  a  Christian.  "  He  gave  over  his  prac- 
tice," says  Burnet,  in  his  Life  of  Hale,  '^because  he 
<5ould  not  understand  the  reason  of  giving  colour  in  pleadings, 
which,  as  he  thought,  was  to  tell  a  lie." 

Hale  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  both  his  parents  very  early 
in  life,  his  mother  dying  before  he  was  three  years  old,  and  his 
father  before  he  had  attained  his  fifth  year.  Under  the  direc- 
tion of  his  father's  will  he  was  committed  to  the  care  of  a  near 
relation,  Anthony  Kingscote,  Esq.,  of  Kingscote  in  Gloucester- 
shire. This  gentleman,  being  inclined  to  the  religious  doctrines 
and  discipline  of  the  Puritans,  placed  him  in  a  school  belonging 
to  that  party;  and,  intending  to  educate  him  for  a  clergyman, 
entered  him  in  1626  at  Magdalen  Hall,  in  Oxford.  The  strict- 
ness and  formality  of  his  early  education  seem  to  have  inclined 
him  to  run  into  the  opposite  extreme  at  the  university,  when  he 
became  to  a  certain  extent  his  own  master.  He  is  said  to  have 
been  very  fond  at  this  time  of  theatrical  amusements,  and  of 
fencing,  an  i  other  martial  exercises ;  and  giving  up  the  design 


2h;4  lives   of   eminent   CHRISTIANS. 

of  becoming  a  divine,  he  at  one  time  determined  to  pass  over 
into  the  Netherlands,  and  to  enlist  as  a  volunteer  in  the  army 
of  the  Prince  of  Orange.  A  providential  circumstance  diverted 
him  from  this  resolution.  He  became  involved  in  a  lawsuit  with 
a  gentleman  in  Gloucestershire,  who  laid  claim  to  part  of  his 
paternal  estate ;  and  his  guardian,  being  a  man  of  retired 
habits,  was  unwilling  to  undertake  the  task  of  personally  super  • 
intending  the  proceedings  on  his  behalf.  It  became  necessary, 
therefore,  that  Hale,  though  then  only  twenty  years  old,  should 
leave  the  university  and  repair  to  London,  for  the  purpose  of 
arranging  his  defence.  His  professional  adviser  on  this  occa- 
sion was  Serjeant  Glanville,  a  learned  and  distinguished  lawyer; 
who,  being  struck  by  the  clearness  of  his  young  client's  under- 
standing, and  by  his  peculiar  aptitude  of  mind  for  the  study  of 
the  law,  prevailed  upon  him  to  abandon  his  military  project,  and 
to  enter  himself  at  one  of  the  Inns  of  Court,  with  the  view  of 
being  called  to  the  bar.  He  accordingly  became  a  member  of 
the  society  of  Lincoln's  Inn  in  Michaelmas  term,  1629,  and  im- 
mediately applied  himself  with  unusual  assiduity  to  professional 
studies.  At  this  period  of  his  life,  he  is  said  to  have  read  for 
several  years  at  the  rate  of  sixteen  hours  a  day. 

During  his  residence  as  a  student  in  Lincoln's  Inn,  an  inci- 
dent occurred  which  recalled  a  certain  seriousness  of  demea- 
nour, for  which  he  had  been  remarkable  as  a  boy,  and  gave 
birth  to  that  profound  piety  which  in  after-life  was  a  marked 
feature  in  his  character.  Being  engaged  with  several  other 
young  students  at  a  tavern  in  the  neighbourhood  of  London, 
one  of  his  companions  drank  to  such  excess  that  he  fell  sud- 
denly from  his  chair  in  a  kind  of  fit,  and  for  some  time  seemed 
to  be  dead.  After  assisting  the  rest  of  the  party  to  restore  the 
young  man  to  his  senses,  in  which  they  at  length  succeeded, 
though  he  still  remained  in  a  state  of  great  dangei,  Hale,  who 
was  deeply  impressed  with  the  circumstance,  retired  into  another 
room,  and  falling  upon  his  knees  prayed  earnestly  to  God  that 
his  friend's  life  might  be  spared ;  and  solemnly  vowed  that  he 
would  never  again  be  a  party  to  similar  excess,  nor  encourage 
intemperance  by  drinking  a  health  again  as  long  as  he  lived. 
His  companion  recovered,  and  to  the  end  of  life  Hale  scrupu- 
lously kept  his  vow.  This  was  afterwards  a  source  of  much 
inconvenience  to  him,  when  the  reign   of  licentiousness   com- 


SIR   MATTHEW    HALE.  285 

aenced,  upon  the  restoration  of  Charles  11. ;  and  drinking  the 
king's  health  to  intoxication  was  considered  as  one  of  the  tests 
of  loyalty  in  politics,  and  of  orthodoxy  in  religion. 

His  rapid  proficiency  in  legal  studies  not  only  justified  and 
confirmed  the  good  opinion  which  had  been  formed  of  him  by 
his  early  friend  and  patron,  Serjeant  Glanville,  but  also  intro- 
duced him  to  the  favourable  notice  of  several  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished lawyers  of  that  day.  Noy,  the  Attorney-General, 
who  some  years  afterwards  devised  the  odious  scheme  of  ship- 
money,  and  who,  while  he  is  called  by  Lord  Clarendon  "  a 
vnorose  and  proud  man,"  is  also  represented  by  him  as  an 
"able  and  learned  lawyer,"  took  particular  notice  of  Hale,  and 
advised  and  assisted  him  in  his  studies.  At  this  time  also  he 
became  intimate  with  Selden,  who,  though  much  older  than 
himself,  honoured  him  with  his  patronage  and  friendship.  He 
was  induced  by  the  advice  and  example  of  this  great  man  to 
extend  his  reading  beyond  the  contracted  sphere  of  his  profes- 
sional studies,  to  enlarge  and  strengthen  his  reasoning  powers 
by  philosophical  inquiries,  and  to  store  his  mind  with  a  variety 
of  general  knowledge.  The  variety  of  his  pursuits  at  this 
period  of  life  was  remarkable :  anatomy,  physiology,  and  divi- 
nity formed  part  only  of  his  extensive  course  of  reading  ;  and 
by  his  (Subsequent  writings  it  is  made  manifest  that  his  know- 
ledge of  these  subjects  was  by  no  means  superficial. 

The  exact  period  at  which  Hale  was  called  to  the  bar  is  not 
given  by  any  of  his  biographers ;  and  in  consequence  of  the 
non-arrangement  of  the  earlier  records  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  it  can- 
not be  readily  ascertained.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  he 
commenced  the  actual  practice  of  his  profession  about  the  year 
1636.  It  is  plain  that  he  very  soon  attained  considerable  repu- 
tation in  it,  from  his  having  been  employed  in  most  of  the  cele- 
brated trials  arising  out  of  the  troubles  consequent  on  the  meet- 
ing of  parliament  in  1640.  His  prudence  and  political  mode- 
ration, together  with  his  great  legal  and  constitutional  know- 
ledge, pointed  him  out  as  a  valuable  advocate  for  such  of  the 
court  party  as  were  brought  to  public  trial.  Bishop  Burnet 
says  that  he  was  assigned  as  counsel  for  Lord  Strafi'ord,  in  1640. 
This  does  not  appear  from  the  reports  of  that  trial,  nor  is  it  on 
record  that  he  was  expressly  assigned  as  Strafford's  counsel  by 
the  House  of  Lords :  but  he  may  have   been  privately  retained 


586  LIVES    OF    EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

by  that  nobleman  to  assist  in  preparing  his  defence.  In  1643, 
however,  he  was  expressly  appointed  by  both  Houses  of  Parlia- 
ment as  counsel  for  Archbishop  Laud :  and  the  argument  of 
Mr.  Heme,  the  senior  counsel,  an  elaborate  and  lucid  piece  of 
legal  reasoning,  is  said,  but  on  no  certain  authority,  to  have 
been  drawn  up  by  Hale.  In  1647,  he  was  appointed  one  of  the 
counsel  for  the  Eleven  members :  and  he  is  said  to  have  been 
afterwards  retained  for  the  defence  of  Charles  I.  in  the  High 
Court  of  Justice ;  but  as  the  king  refused  to  own  the  jurisdic- 
tion of  the  tribunal,  his  counsel  took  no  public  part  in  the  pro- 
ceedings. He  was  also  retained  after  the  king's  death  by  the 
Duke  of  Hamilton,  when  brought  to  trial  for  treason,  in  taking 
up  arms  against  the  parliament.  Burnet  mentions  other  in- 
stances, but  these  are  enough  to  prove  his  high  reputation  for 
fidelity  and  courage,  as  well  as  learning. 

In  the  year  1643,  Hale  took  the  Covenant  as  prescribed  by 
the  parliament,  and  appeared  more  than  once,  with  other  lay- 
men, in  the  Assembly  of  Divines.  In  1651,  he  took  the  '<  En- 
gagement to  be  faithful  and  true  to  the  Commonwealth  without 
a  King  and  House  of  Lords,"  which,  as  Mr.  Justice  Foster  ob- 
serves, «'  in  the  sense  of  those  wh'o  imposed  it,  was  plainly  an 
engagement  for  abolishing  kingly  government,  or  at  least  for 
supporting  the  abolition  of  it."  In  consequence  of  his  compli- 
ance in  this  respect,  he  was  allowed  to  practise  at  the  bar,  and 
was  shortly  afterwards  appointed  a  member  of  the,  commission 
for  considering  of  the  reformation  of  tlie  law.  The  precise  part 
taken  by  Hale  in  the  deliberations  of  that  body  cannot  now  be 
ascertained  ;  and  indeed  there  are  no  records  of  the  mode  in 
which  they  conducted  their  inquiries,  and,  with  a  few  excep- 
tions, no  details  of  the  specific  measures  of  reform  introduced 
by  them.  A  comparison,  however,  of  the  machinery  of  courts 
of  justice  during  the  reign  of  Charles  I.,  and  their  practice  and 
general  conduct  during  the  Commonwealth,  and  immediately 
after  the  Restoration,  will  aff*ord  convincing  proofs  that,  during 
the  interregnum  improvements  of  great  importance  were  ef- 
fected ;  improvements  which  must  have  been  devised,  matured, 
and  carried  into  execution  by  minds  of  no  common  wisdom, 
devoted  to  tlie  subject  with  extraordinary  industry  and  re- 
flection. 

It  was  unquestionably  with   the  view  of  restoring  a  respect 


Sm   MATTHEW   HALE.  2§7 

for  the  administration  of  justice,  which  had  been  wholly  lost 
during  the  reign  of  Charles  I.,  and  giving  popularity  and  moral 
strength  to  his  own  .government,  that  Cromwell  determined  to 
place  such  men  as  Hale  on  the  benches  of  the  diiferent  courts. 
Hale,  however,  had  at  first  many  scruples  concerning  the  pro- 
priety of  acting  under  a  commission  from  a  usurper ;  and  it 
was  not  without  much  hesitation,  that  he  at  length  yielded  to 
the  importunity  of  Cromwell,  and  the  urgent  advice  and  entrea- 
ties of  his  friends ;  who,  thinking  it  no  small  security  to  the 
nation  to  have  a  man  of  his  integrity  and  high  character  on  the 
bench,  spared  no  pains  to  satisfy  his  conscientious  scruples.  He 
was  made  a  serjeant,  and  raised  to  the  bench  of  the  Court  of 
Common  Pleas  in  January,  1653—4. 

Soon  after  he  became  a  judge,  he  was  returned  to  Cromwell's 
first  parliament  of  five  months,  as  one  of  the  knights  of  the 
shire  for  the  county  of  Gloucester,  but  he  does  not  appear  to 
have  taken  a  very  active  part  in  the  proceeding.^  of  that  assem- 
bly. Burnet  says  that  ''he,  with  a  great  many  others,  came 
to  parliaments,  more  out  of  a  design  to  hinder  mischief  than  to 
do  much  good."  On  one  occasion,  however,  he  did  a  service  to 
his  country,  for  which  all  subsequent  generations  have  reason 
to  be  grateful,  by  opposing  the  proposition  of  a  party  of  frantic 
enthusiasts  to  destroy  the  records  in  the  Tower  and  other  de- 
positories, as  remnants  of  feudality  and  barbarism.  Hale  dis- 
played the  folly,  injustice,  and  mischief  of  this  proposition, 
with  such  authority  and  clearness  of  argument  that  he  carried 
the  opinions  of  all  reasonable  members  with  him ;  and  in  the 
end,  those  who  had  introduced  the  measure  were  well  satisfied 
to  withdraw  it.  That  his  political  opinions  at  this  time  were 
not  republican,  is  evident  from  a  motion  introduced  by  him. 
that  the  legislative  authority  should  be  affirmed  to  be  in  the 
parliament,  and  an  individual  with  powers  limited  by  the  par- 
liament ;  but  that  the  military  power  should  for  the  present 
remain  with  the  Protector.  He  had  no  seat  in  the  second  par- 
liament of  the  Protectorate,  called  in  1656;  but  when  a  new 
parliament  was  summoned,  upon  the  death  of  Cromwell,  in 
January,  1658-9,  he  represented  the  University  of  Oxford. 

His  judicial  conduct,  during  the  Commonwealth,  is  repre- 
sented by  contemporaries  of  all  parties  as  scrupulously  just 
and  nobly  independent.      Several   instances  are   related  of  his 


!283  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

resolute  refusal  to  submit  the  free  administration  of  the  law  to 
the  arbitrary  dictation  of  the  Protector.  On  one  occasion  of 
this  kind,  which  occurred  on  the  circuit,  a  jury  had  been  packed 
by  express  directions  from  Cromwell.  Hale  discharged  the  jury, 
on  discovering  this  circumstance,  and  refused  to  try  the  cause. 
When  he  returned  to  London,  the  Protector  severely  repri- 
manded him,  telling  him  that  "  he  was  not  fit  to  be  a  judge  ;'* 
to  which  Hale  only  replied  that  "it  was  very  true." 

It  appears  that  at  this  period,  he,  in  common  with  several 
other  judges,  had  strong  objections  to  being  employed  by  Crom- 
well as  commissioners  on  the  trial  of  persons  taken  in  open  re- 
sistance to  his  authority.  After  the  suppression  of  the  feeble 
and  ineffectual  rebellion  in  1655,  in  which  the  unfortunate 
Colonel  Penruddock,  with  many  other  gentlemen  of  rank  and 
distinction,  appeared  in  arms  for  the. king,  in  the  western  coun- 
ties, a  special  commission  issued  for  the  trial  of  the  offenders  at 
Exeter,  in  which  Hale's  name  was  inserted.  He  happened  to 
be  spending  the  Lent  vacation  at  his  house  at  Alderley,  to 
which  place  an  express  was  sent  to  require  his  attendance ;  but 
he  plainly  refused  to  go,  excusing  himself  on  the  ground  that 
four  terms  and  two  circuits  in  the  year  were  a  sufficient  devo- 
tion of  his  time  to  his  judicial  duties,  and  that  the  intervals 
were  already  too  small  for  the  arrangement  of  his  private  affairs  ; 
<'  but,"  says  Burnet,  "  if  he  had  been  urged  to  it,  he  would  not 
have  been  afraid  of  speaking  more  clearly." 

He  continued  to  occupy  his  place  as  a  judge  of  the  Common 
Pleas  until  the  death  of  the  Protector ;  but  when  a  new  com- 
mission from  Richard  Cromwell  was  offered  to  him,  he  declined 
to  receive  it;  and,  though  strongly  urged  by  other  judges,  as 
well  as  his  personal  friends,  to  accept  the  office  on  patriotic 
grounds,  he  firmly  adhered  to  his  first  resolution,  saying  that 
"he  could  act  no  longer  under  such  authority." 

In  the  year  1660,  Hale  was  again  returned  by  his  native 
county  of  Gloucester,  to  serve  in  the  Parliament,  or  Convention, 
by  which  Charles  II.  was  recalled.  On  the  discussion  of  the 
means  by  which  this  event  should  be  brought  about.  Hale  pro- 
])0sed  that  a  committee  should  be  appointed  to  look  into  the 
propositions  and  concessions  offered  by  Charles  I.  during  the 
war,  particularly  at  the  treaty  of  Newport,  from  whence  they 
7.»ig]it  form  reasonable  conditions  to  be  sent  over  to  the  king, 


SIR   MATTHEW   HALE.  289 

The  motion  was  successfully  opposed  by  Monk,  who  urged  the 
danger  which  might  arise,  in  the  present  state  of  the  army  and 
the  nation,  if  any  delay  should  occur  in  the  immediate  settle- 
ment of  the  government.  "  This,"  says  Burnet,  "  was  echoed 
with  such  a  shout  over  the  House,  that  the  motion  was  no  longer 
insisted  on."  It  can  hardly  be  doubted  that  most  of  the  des- 
tructive errors  of  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  would  have  been 
spared,  if  express  restrictions  ha  1  been  imposed  upon  him  be- 
fore he  was  permitted  to  assume  the  reins  of  government.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  has  been  justly  said,  that  the  time  was  criti- 
cal ;  that  at  that  precise  moment,  the  army  and  the  nation, 
equally  weary  of  the  scenes  of  confusion  and  misrule  which  had 
succeeded  to  Richard  Cromwell's  abdication,  agreed  upon  the 
proposed  scheme ;  but  that  if  delay  had  been  interposed,  and 
if  debates  had  arisen  in  parliament,  the  dormant  spirit  of  party 
would  in  all  probability  have  been  awakened,  the  opportunity 
would  have  been  lost,  and  the  Restoration  might  after  all  have 
been  prevented.  These  arguments,  when  urged  by  Monk  to 
those  who  were  suffering  under  a  pressing  evil,  and  had  only  a 
prospective  and  contingent  danger  before  them,  were  plausible 
and  convincing ;  but  to  those  in  after  times  who  have  marked 
the  actual  consequences  of  recalling  the  king  without  expressly 
limiting  and  defining  his  authority,  as  displayed  in  the  misera- 
ble and  disgraceful  events  of  his  <■'  wicked,  turbulent,  and  san- 
guinary reign,"  and  in  the  necessary  occurrence  of  another  re- 
volution within  thirty  years  from  the  Restoration,  it  will  pro- 
bably appear  that  the  parliament  paid  rather  too  dearly  on  that 
occasion  for  the  advantages  of  an  immediate  settlement  of  the 
nation. 

Immediately  after  the  restoration  of  the  king,  in  May,  1660, 
Lord  Clarendon,  being  appointed  Lord  Chancellor,  sought  to 
give  strength  and  stability  to  the  new  government  by  carefully 
providing  for  the  due  administration  of  justice.  With  this 
view  he  placed  men,  distinguished  for  their  learning  and  high 
judicial  character,  upon  the  benches  of  the  different  courts. 
Among  other  eminent  lawyers,  who  had  forsaken  their  profes- 
sion during  the  latter  period  of  the  Commonwealth,  he  deter- 
mined to  recall  Hale  from  his  retirement,  and  offered  him  the 
appointment  of  Lord  Chief  Baron.  But  it  was  not  without 
great  difficulty  that  Hale  was  induced  to  return  to  the  labours 
37  2  B 


290  LIVES    0P»  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

of  public  lif-e.  A  curious  original  paper,  containing  his  "rea 
sons  whj  he  desired  to  be  spared  from  any  place  of  public  em- 
ployment," was  published  some  years  ago  by  Mr.  Hargrave  in 
the  preface  to  his  collection  of  law  tracts.  Among  these  rea- 
sons, which  were  stated  with  the  characteristic  simplicity  of  this 
great  man,  he  urged  "  the  smallness  of  his  estate,  being  not 
above  £500  per  annum,  six  children  unprovided  for,  and  a  debt 
of  .£1000  lying  upon  him  ;  that  he  was  not  so  well  able  to  en- 
dure travel  and  pains  as  formerly  :  that  his  constitution  of  body 
required  some  ease  and  relaxation  ;  and  that  he  had  of  late 
time  declined  the  study  of  the  law,  and  principally  applied 
himself  to  other  studies,  now  more  easy,  grateful,  and  seasona- 
ble for  him."  He  alludes  also  to  two  "infirmities,  which  make 
him  unfit  for  that  employment,  first,  an  aversion  to  the  pomp 
and  grandeur  necessarily  incident  to  it ;  and  secondly,  too 
much  pity,  clemency,  and  tenderness  in  cases  of  life,  which 
might  prove  an  unserviceable  temper."  "But  if,"  he  concludes, 
"  after  all  this,  there  must  be  a  necessity  of  undertaking  an 
employment,  I  desire  that  it  may  be  in  such  a  court  and  way 
as  may  be  most  suitable  to  my  course  of  studies  and  education, 
and  that  it  may  be  the  lowest  place  that  may  be,  to  avoid  envy. 
One  of  his  majesty's  counsel  in  ordinary,  or,  at  most,  the  place  of 
a  puisne  judge  in  the  Common  Pleas,  would  suit  me  best."  His 
scruples  were,  however,  eventually  overcome,  and,  on  the  7th  of 
November,  1660,  he  accepted  the  appointment  of  Lord  Chief 
Baron ;  Lord  Clarendon  saying,  as  he  delivered  his  commission 
to  him,  that,  "  if  the  king  could  have  found  an  honester  and  fitter 
man  for  that  employment,  he  would  not  have  advanced  him  to 
it,  and  that  he  had  therefore  preferred  him,  because  he  knew 
no  other  who  deserved  it  so  well."  Shortly  afterwards,  he 
reluctantly  received  the  honour  of  knighthood. 

The  trials  of  the  regicides  took  place  in  the  October  imme- 
diately preceding  his  appointment,  and  his  name  appears  among 
the  commissioners  on  that  occasion.  There  is,  however,  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  he  was  actually  present.  His  name  is 
not  mentioned  in  any  of  the  reports,  either  as  interfering  in  the 
proceedings  themselves,  or  assisting  at  the  previous  consulta- 
tions of  the  judges ;  and  it  can  hardly  be  doubted  but  that,  if 
he  had  taken  a  part  in  the  trials,  he  would  have  been  included, 
with  Sir  Orlando  Bridgeman  and  several  others,  in  the  bitter 


SIR   MATTHEW   HALE.  291 

remarks  made  by  Ludlow  on  their  conduct  in  this  respect.  It 
has  been  the  invariable  practice,  from  very  early  times  to  the 
present  day,  to  include  the  twelve  judges  in  all  commissions 
of  Oyer  and  Terminer  for  London  and  Middlesex  ;  and  as,  at 
the  time  of  the  trials  in  question,  only  eight  judges  had  been 
appointed,  it  is  probable  that  Hale  and  the  other  three  judges 
elect  were  named  in  the  commission,  though  their  patents  were 
not  made  out  till  the  following  term,  in  order  to  preserve  as 
nearly  as  possible  the  ancient  form. 

Sir  Matthew  Hale  held  the  office  of  Lord  Chief  Baron  till 
the  year  1671,  and,  during  that  period,  greatly  raised  the  cha- 
racter of  the  court  in  which  he  presided  by  his  unwearied  pa- 
tience and  industry,  the  mildness  of  his  manners,  and  the  in- 
flexible integrity  of  his  judicial  conduct.  His  impartiality  in 
deciding  cases  in  the  Exchequer,  where  the  interests  of  the 
crown  were  concerned,  is  admitted  even  by  Roger  North,  who 
elsewhere  charges  him  with  holding  "demagogical  principles," 
and  with  the  "foible  of  leaning  towards  the  popular."  "I 
have  heard  Lord  Guilford  say,"  says  this  agreeable  but  partial 
writer,  "  that  while  Hale  was  Chief  Baron  of  the  Exchequer, 
by  means  of  his  great  learning,  even  against  his  inclination, 
he  did  the  crown  more  justice  in  that  court  than  any  others  in 
his  place  had  done  w^ith  all  their  good-will  and  less  knowledge." 

While  he  was  Chief  Baron,  he  was  called  upon  to  preside  at 
the  trial  of  two  unhappy  women  who  were  indicted  at  the  as- 
sizes at  Bury  St.  Edmunds,  in  the  year  1665,  for  the  crime  oC 
witchcraft.  The  Chief  Baron  is  reported  to  have  told  the  jury 
that  "  he  made  no  doubt  at  all  that  there  were  such  creatures 
as  witches,"  and  the  women  were  found  guilty  and  afterwards 
executed.  The  conduct  of  Hale  on  this  occasion  has  been  the 
subject  of  much  sarcastic  animadversion.  It  might  be  said  in 
reply,  that  the  report  of  the  case  in  the  State  Trials  is  of  no 
authority  whatever  ;  but,  supposing  it  to  be  accurate,  it  would 
be  unjust  and  unreasonable  to  impute  to  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  as 
personal  superstition  or  prejudice,  a  mere  participation  in  the 
prevailing  and  almost  universal  belief  of  the  times  in  which  he 
lived.  The  majority  of  his  contemporaries,  even  among  per 
sons  of  education  and  refinement,  were  firm  believers  in  witch- 
craft, and,  though  Lord  Guilford  rejected  this  belief,  Roger 
North  admits   that  he  dared  not  to  avow  b'S  infidelity  in  this 


292  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

respect  in  public,  as  it  would  have  exposed  him  to  the  imputa- 
tion of  irreligion.  Numerous  instances  might  be  given  to  show 
the  general  prevalence  at  that  time  of  this  stupid  and  ignorant 
superstition,  and  therefore  the  opinion  of  Hale  on  this  subject 
does  not  appear  to  be  a  proof  of  peculiar  weakness  or  credulity. 

On  the  occurrence  of  the  great  fire  of  London,  in  1666,  an 
act  of  parliament  passed  containing  directions  and  arrange- 
ments for  rebuilding  the  city.  By  a  clause  in  this  statute,  the 
judges  were  authorized  to  sit  singly  to  decide  on  the  amount  of 
compensation  due  to  persons  whose  premises  Avere  taken  by  the 
corporation  in  furtherance  of  the  intended  improvements.  Sir 
Matthew  Hale  applied  himself  with  his  usual  diligence  and  pa- 
tience to  the  discharge  of  this  laborious  and  extra-judicial  duty. 
"He  was,"  says  Baxter,  "the  great  instrument  for  rebuilding 
London  ;  for  it  was  he  that  was  the  constant  judge,  who  for 
nothing  followed  the  work,  and,  by  his  prudence  and  justice, 
removed  a  multitude  of  great  impediments." 

In  the  year  1671,  upon  the  death  of  Sir  John  Kelyng,  Chief 
Justice  of  the  Court  of  King's  Bench,  Sir  Matthew  Hale  was 
removed  from  the  Exchequer  to  succeed  him.  The  particular 
circumstances  which  caused  his  elevation  to  this  laborious  and 
responsible  situation,  at  a  time  when  his  growing  infirmities  in- 
duced him  to  seek  a  total  retirement  from  public  life,  are  not 
recorded  by  any  of  his  biographers.  For  four  years  after  he 
became  Chief  Justice,  he  regularly  attended  to  the  duties  of 
his  court,  and  his  name  appears  in  all  the  reported  cases  in  the 
Court  of  King's  Bench  until  the  close  of  the  year  1675. 
About  that  time  he  was  attacked  by  an  inflammation  of  the 
diaphragm,  a  painful  and  languishing  disease,  from  which  he 
constantly  predicted  that  he  should  not  recover.  It  produced 
so  entire  a  prostration  of  strength,  that  he  was  unable  to  walk 
up  Westminster  Hall  to  his  court  without  being  supported  by 
his  servants.  "  He  resolved,"  says  Baxter,  "  that  the  place 
should  not  be  a  burden  to  him,  nor  he  to  it,"  and  therefore 
made  an  earnest  application  to  the  Lord  Keeper  Finch  for  his 
dismission.  This  being  delayed  for  some  time,  and  finding 
himself  totally  unequal  to  the  toil  of  business,  he  at  length,  in 
February,  1676,  tendered  the  surrender  of  his  patent  person- 
ally to  the  king,  who  received  it  graciously  and  kindly,  and 
promised  to  continue  his  pen?-'n  during  his  life. 


SIR   MATTHEW   HALE.  293 

On  his  retirement  from  office,  he  occupied  at  first  a  house  at 
Acton,  which  he  had  taken  from  Richard  Baxter,  who  says  "  it 
was  one  of  the  meanest  houses  he  had  ever  lived  in.  In  that 
house,"  he  adds,  "he  lived  contentedly,  without  any  pomp,  and 
without  costly  or  troublesome  retinue  of  visiters,  but  not  with- 
out charity  to  the  poor.  He  continueth  the  study  of  mathe- 
matics and  physics  still  as  his  great  delight.  It  is  not  the  least 
of  my  pleasure  that  I  have  lived  some  years  in  his  more  than 
ordinary  love  and  friendship,  and  that  we  are  now  waiting 
which  shall  be  first  in  heaven  ;  whither,  he  saith,  he  is  going 
with  full  content  and  acquiescence  in  the  will  of  a  gracious  God, 
and  doubts  not  but  we  shall  shortly  live  together."  Not  long 
before  his  death,  he  removed  from  Acton  to  his  own  house  at 
Alderly,  intending  to  die  there ;  and,  having  a  few  days  before 
gone  to  the  parish  churchyard  and  chosen  his  grave,  he  sunk 
under  a  united  attack  of  asthma  and  dropsy  on  Christmas-day, 
1676. 

The  judicial  character  of  Sir  Matthew  Hale  was  without  re- 
proach. His  profound  knowledge  of  the  law  rendered  him  an 
object  of  universal  respect  to  the  profession  ;  whilst  his  pa- 
tience, conciliatory  manners,  and  rigid  impartiality  engaged 
the  good  opinion  of  all  classes  of  men.  As  a  proof  of  this,  it 
is  said  that,  as  he  successively  removed  from  the  Court  of  Com- 
mon Pleas  to  the  Exchequer,  and  from  thence  to  the  King's 
Bench,  the  mass  of  business  always  followed  him  ;  so  that  the 
court  in  which  he  presided  was  constantly  the  favourite  one 
with  counsel,  attorneys,  and  parties.  Perhaps,  indeed,  no  judge 
has  ever  been  so  generally  and  unobjectionably  popular.  His 
address  was  copious  and  impressive,  but  at  times  slow  and  em- 
barrassed. Baxter  says  *'  he  was  a  man  of  no  quick  utterance, 
and  often  hesitant,  but  spake  with  great  reason."  This  account 
of  his  mode  of  speaking  is  confirmed  by  Roger  North,  who 
adds,  however,  that  "  his  stop  for  a  word,  by  the  produce  al- 
ways paid  for  the  delay,  and  on  some  occasions  he  would  utter 
sentences  heroic."  His  reputation  as  a  legal  and  constitutional 
writer  is  in  no  degree  inferior  to  his  character  as  a  judge. 
From  the  time  it  was  published  to  the  present  day,  his  history 
of  the  Pleas  of  the  Crown  has  always  been  considered  as  a  book 
of  the  highest  authority,  and  is  referred  to  in  courts  of  justice 
with  as  great  confidence  and  respect  as  the  formal  records  of 


294  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

judicial  opinions.  His  Treatises  on  the  Jurisdiction  of  the 
Lord's  House  of  Parliament  and  on  Maritime  Law,  which  were 
first  published  by  Mr.  Hargrave  more  than  a  century  after  Sir 
Matthew  Hale's  death,  are  w^orks  of  first-rate  excellence  as 
legal  arguments,  and  are  invaluable  as  repositories  of  the  learn- 
ing of  centuries,  which  the  industry  and  research  of  the  author 
had  collected. 

After  his  retirement  from  public  life,  he  WTote  his  great 
work  called  "  The  primitive  Origination  of  Mankind,  considered 
and  examined  according  to  the  light  of  Nature.""  Various  opi- 
nions have  been  formed  upon  the  merits  of  this  treatise.  Roger 
North  depreciates  the  substance  of  the  book,  but  commends  its 
style  ;  while  Bishop  Burnet  and  Dr.  Birch  greatly  praise  its 
learning  and  force  of  reasoning. 

Sir  Matthew  Hale  was  twice  married.  By  his  first  wife,  who 
was  a  daughter  of  Sir  Henry  Moore,  of  Faley  in  Berkshire,  he 
had  ten  children,  most  of  whom  turned  but  ill.  His  second 
wife,  according  to  Roger  North,  was  ''his  own  servant-maid;" 
and  Baxter  says,  ''  some  made  it  a  scandal,  but  his  wisdom 
chose  it  for  his  convenience,  that  in  his  age  he  married  a  wo- 
man of  no  estate  to  be  to  him  as  a  nurse."  Hale  gives  her  a 
high  character  in  his  will,  as  "  a  most  dutiful,  faithful,  and  lov- 
ing wife,"  making  her  one  of  his  executors,  and  intrusting  her 
with  the  education  of  his  grand-children.  He  bequeathed  his 
collection  of  manuscripts,  wdiich  he  says  had  cost  him  much 
industry  and  expense,  to  the  Society  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  in  whose 
library  they  are  carefully  preserved. 


ISAAC   BARROW. 


295 


ISAAC   BARROW. 


1630. 


EW  of  the  divines  and  philosophers  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  were  more  eminent  than  Isaac 
Barrow.  Of  the  many  good  and  great  men 
whom  it  is  the  glory  of  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge, to  number  as  her  foster-sons,  there  is 
none  more  good,  none,  perhaps,  after  Bacon 
and  Newton,  more  distinguished  than  he  ;  and 
he  has  an  especial  claim  to  the  gratitude  of  all 
memb'ers  of  that  splendid  foundation  as  the  pro- 
jector of  its  unequalled  library,  as  well  as  a  liberal 
benefactor  in  other  respects. 
The  father  of  Barrow,  a  respectable  citizen  of 
London,  was  linen-draper  to  Charles  L,  and  the  son 
was  naturally  brought  up  in  royalist  principles.  The 
ate  of  his  birth  is  variously  assigned  by  his  biogra- 
phers, but  the  more  probable  account  fixes  it  to  October, 
It   is  recorded   that  his    childhood   was  turbulent   and 


quarrelsome ;  that  he  was  careless  of  his  clothes,  disinclined 
to  study,  and  especially  addicted  to  fighting  and  promoting 
quarrels  among  his  school-fellows ;  and  of  a  temper  altogether 
so  unpromising,  that  his  father  often  expressed  a  wish,  that  if 
any  of  his  children  should  die,  it  might  be  his  son  Isaac.  He 
was  first  sent  to  school  at  the  Charter  House,  and  removed 
thence  to  Felstead  in  Essex.  Here  his  disposition  seemed  to 
change :  he  made  great  progress  in  learning,  and  was  entered 
at  Trinity  College  in  1645,  in  his  fifteenth  year,  it  being  then 
usual  to  send  boys  to  college  about  that  age.  He  passed  his 
term  as  an  under-graduate  with  much  credit.  The  time  and 
place  were  not  favourable  to  the  promotion  of  Roj^alists ;  for 
a  royalist  master  had  been  ejected  to  make  room  for  one  placed 
there  by  the  parliament,  and  the  Fellows  were  chiefly  of  tl-e  same 
political  persuasion.     But  Barrow's  good  conduct   and   Jatcii^jx- 


296  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

ments  won  the  favour  of  his  suueriors,  and  in  1649,  the  year 
after  he  took  his  degree,  he  was  elected  Fellow.  It  deserves  to 
be  known,  for  it  is  honourable  to  both  parties,  that  he  never 
disguised  or  compromised  his  own  principles. 

His  earlier  studies  were  especially  turned  towards  natural 
philosophy  ;  and,  rejecting  the  antiquated  doctrines  then  taught 
in  the  schools,  he  selected  Bacon,  Galileo,  and  Descartes  as  his 
favourite  authors.  He  did  not  commence  the  study  of  mathe- 
matics until  after  he  had  gained  his  fellowship,  and  was  led  to 
it  in  a  very  circuitous  way.  He  was  induced  to  read  the  Greek 
astronomers,  with  a  view  to  solving  the  difficulties  of  ancient 
chronology ;  and  to  understand  their  works,  a  thorough  know- 
ledge of  geometry  was  indispensable.  He  therefore  undertook 
the  study  of  that  science ;  which  suited  the  bent  of  his  genius 
80  well,  that  he  became  one  of  the  greatest  proficients  in  it  of 
his  age.  His  first  intention  was  to  become  a  physician,  and  he 
made  considerable  progress  in  anatomy,  chemistry,  botany,  and 
other  sciences  subservient  to  the  profession  of  medicine  ;  but  he 
changed  his  mind,  and  determined  to  make  divinity  his  chief 
pursuit.  In  1655  he  went  abroad.  His  travels  extended 
through  France,  Italy,  and  the  Levant,  to  Constantinople ;  and, 
after  an  absence  of  four  years,  he  returned  to  England  through 
Germany  and  Holland.  During  this  period  he  lost  no  oppor- 
tunity of  prosecuting  his  studies ;  and  he  sent  home  several 
descriptive  poems,  and  some  letters,  written  in  Latin,  which  are 
printed  in  his  Opuscula,  in  the  fourth  volume  of  the  folio  edition 
of  his  works.  In  the  voyage  to  Smyrna  he  gave  a  proof  of  the 
high  spirit,  which,  purified  from  its  childish  unruliness  and 
violence,  continued  to  form  part  of  his  character  through  life. 
The  vessel  being  attacked  by  an  Algerine  corsair,  Barrow 
remained  on  deck,  cheerfully  and  vigorously  fighting,  until  the 
assailant  sheered  off.  Being  asked  afterwards  why  he  did  not 
go  into  the  hold  and  leave  the  defence  of  the  ship  to  those  whom 
it  concerned,  he  replied,  "It  concerned  no  one  more  than  my- 
self. I  would  rather  have  died  than  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
those  merciless  pirates."  He  has  described  this  voyage,  and 
its  eventful  circumstances,  in  a  poem  contained  in  his  Opuscula. 

He  entered  into  orders  in  1659,  and  in  the  following  year 

was  made  Greek  Professor  at  Cambridge.     The  numerous  offices 

J  phich  he  was  appointed  about  this  time  show  that  his  mei-its 


ISAAC   BARROW.  257 

were  generally  and  highly  esteemed.  He  was  chosen  to  be  Pro- 
fessor of  Geometry  at  Gresham  College  in  1662 ;   and  was  one 

of  the  first  Fellows  elected  into  the  Royal  Society,  after  the 
incorporation  of  that  body  by  charter  in  1663  ;  in  which  year 
he  was  also  appointed  the  first  mathematical  lecturer  on  the 
foundation  of  Mr.  Lucas,  at  Cambridge.  Not  that  he  made 
sinecures  of  these  responsible  employments,  or  thought  himself 
qualified  to  discharge  the  duties  of  all  at  once ;  for  he  resigned 
the  Greek  professorskip,  on  being  appointed  Lucasian  professor, 
for  reasons  explained  in  his  introductory  oration,  which  is  extant 
in  the  Opuscula.  The  Gresham  professorship  he  also  gave  up 
in  1664,  intending  thenceforth  to  reside  at  Cambridge.  Finally, 
in  1669,  he  resigned  the  Lucasian  chair  to  his  great  successor, 
jSiewton,  intending  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  the  study  of 
divinity.  Barrow  received  the  degree  of  D.  D.  by  royal  man- 
date, in  1670 ;  and,  in  1672,  was  raised  to  the  mastership  of 
Trinity  College  by  the  king,  with  the  compliment,  "  that  he 
had  given  it  to  the  best  scholar  in  England."  In  that  high 
station  he  distinguished  himself  by  liberality  :  he  remitted  seve- 
ral allowances  which  his  predecessors  had  required  from  the  col- 
lege ;  he  set  on  foot  the  scheme  for  a  new  library,  and  contri- 
buted in  purse,  and  still  more  by  his  personal  exertions,  to  its 
completion.  It  should  be  remarked  that  his  patent  of  appoint- 
ment being  drawn  up,  as  usual,  with  a  permission  to  marry,  he 
caused  that  part  to  be  struck  out,  conceiving  it  to  be  at  variance 
with  the  statutes.  He  was  cut  off  by  a  fever  in  the  prime  of 
life,  May  4,  1679,  aged  forty-nine,  cuing  a  visit  to  London. 
His  remains  were  honourably  deposited  in  Westminster  Abbey, 
among  the  worthies  of  the  land ;  and  in  that  noble  -building  a 
monument  was  erected  to  him  by  the  contributions  of  his 
frienda. 


38 


298 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JOHN    RAY, 


AY,  whom    Haller   describes   as   the   greatest 
botanist  in  the    memory  of  man,  and  whose 
writings  on  animals  are  pronounced  by  Cuvier 
to  be  the  foundation  of  all  modern   zoology, 
was  born  on  the  29th  of  November,  1628,  at 
Black  Notley,  near  Braintree,  in  Essex.     His 
father  was  a  blacksmith,  who  availed  himself 
of  the  advantages  of  a  free  grammar  school  at 
Black  Notley  to  bestow  upon  his  son  a  liberal 
education.     John  was  designed  for  hply  orders  ; 
and  was  accordingly  entered  at  Catherine   Hall, 
Cambridge,  in  his  sixteenth  year.     He  subsequent- 
ly  removed    to    Trinity,    of  which    college    he   was 
elected  a  fellow  in  the  same  year  Avith  the  celebrated 
Isaac  Barrow.     In  1651,  he  was  appointed  Greek  Lec- 
turer of  his  college  ;  and  afterwards  Mathematical  Lec- 
turer and  Humanity  Reader. 

In  the  midst  of  his  professional  occupations  Ray  appears  to 
have  devoted  himself  to  that  course  of  observation  of  the  works 
of  nature,  which  was  afterwards  to  constitute  the  business  and 
pleasure  of  his  life,  and  upon  which  his  enduring  reputation  was 
to  be  built.  In  1660,  he  published  his  '  Catalogus  Plantarum 
circa  Cantabrigiam  nascentiam,'  which  work  he  states  to  be  the 
result  of  ten  years  of  research.  He  must,  therefore,  have  be- 
come a  naturalist,  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word — he  must 
have  observed  as  well  as  read — at  the  period  when  he  was 
struggling  for  university  honours,  and  obtaining  them  in  com- 
pany with  some  of  the  most  eminent  persons  of  his  own  day. 
Before  the  publication  of  his  catalogue,  he  had  visited  many 
parts  of  England  and  Wales,  for  the  purpose  chiefly  of  col- 
lecting their  native  plants;  and  his  Itineraries,  which  were 
first  published  in  1760,  under  the  title  of  'Select  Remains  of 


JOHN  RAY.  299 

the  learned  John  Ray,'  show  that  he  was  a  careful  and  diligent 
observer  of  every  matter  that  could  enlarge  his  understanding 
and  correct  his  taste.  His  principal  companion  in  his  favourite 
studies  was  his  friend  and  pupil,  Francis  Willughby. 

In  December,  1660,  Ray  was  ordained  deacon  and  priest  at 
the  same  time.  But  the  chances  of  preferment  in  the  church 
of  England,  which  his  admirable  talents  and  learning,  as  well 
as  the  purity  of  his  life  and  the  genuine  warmth  of  his  piety, 
would  probably  have  won  for  him,  were  at  once  destroyed  by 
his  honest  and  inflexible  resolution  not  to  subscribe  to  the  con- 
ditions required  by  the  Act  of  Uniformity  of  1662,  by  which 
divines  were  called  upon  to  swear  that  the  oath  entitled  the 
Solemn  League  and  Covenant  was  not  binding  upon  those  who 
had  taken  it.  Ray  was  in  consequence  deprived  of  his  fellow- 
ship. The  affection  of  his  pupil,  Willughby,  relieved  him  from 
the  embarrassment  which  might  have  been  a  consequence  of  this 
misfortune.  The  two  friends  from  this  time  appear  to  have 
dedicated  themselves  almost  wholly  to  the  study  of  natural  his- 
tory. They  travelled  upon  the  Continent  for  three  years,  from 
1663  to  1666  ;  and  during  the  remainder  of  Willughby's  life, 
which  unfortunately  was  terminated  in  1672,  their  time  was 
principally  occupied  in  observations  which  had  for  their  object  to 
examine  and  to  register  the  various  productions  of  nature,  upon 
some  method  which  should  obviate  the  difiiculty  of  those  arbi- 
trary and  fanciful  classifications  which  had  prevailed  up  to  their 
day.  In  the  preface  to  his  first  botanical  attempt,  the  Catalogue 
of  Cambridge  Plants,  Ray  describes  the  obstacles  which  he  found 
in  the  execution  of  such  a  work  ; — he  had  no  guide  to  consult,  and 
he  had  to  form  a  method  of  arrangement  solely  by  his  own 
sagacity  and  patience.  At  that  period,  as  he  says  in  his  '-Wis- 
dom of  God  in  the  Creation,"  ''different  colour,  or  multiplicity 
of  leaves  in  the  flower,  and  the  like  accidents,  were  sufficient  to 
constitute  a  specific  difference."  From  a  conversation  with 
Ray,  a  short  time  before  his  death,  Derham  has  described  the 
object  which  the  two  friends  had  in  their  agreeable  but  laborious 
pursuits.  "  These  two  gentlemen,  finding  the  history  of  nature 
very  imperfect,  had  agreed  between  themselves,  before  their 
travels  beyond  sea,  to  reduce  the  several  tribes  of  things  to  a 
method ;  and  to  give  accurate  descriptions  of  the  several  species, 
from  a  strict  viqw  of  them."     That  Ray  entered  upon  his  task^ 


800  LIV^ES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

however  perplexing  it  might  be,  with  the  enthusiastic  energy  of 
a  man  really  it  love  with  his  subject,  we  cannot  doubt.  "Wil 
lughby,"  says  Derham,  "prosecuted  his  design  with  as  great 
application  as  if  he  had  been  to  get  his  bread  thereby."  The 
good  sense  of  Ray  saw  distinctly  the  right  path  in  such  an 
undertaking.  There  is  a  passage  in  his  '*  Wisdom  of  God,"  which 
beautifully  exhibits  his  own  conception  of  the  proper  character 
of  a  naturalist :  "  Let  it  not  suffice  us  to  be  book-learned,  tu 
read  what  others  have  written,  and  to  take  upon  trust  more 
falsehood  than  truth.  But  let  us  ourselves  examine  things  as 
we  have  opportunity,  and  converse  with  nature  as  well  as  books. 
Let  us  endeavour  to  promote  and  increase  this  knowledge,  and 
make  new  discoveries  ;  not  so  much  distrusting  our  own  parts 
or  despairing  of  our  own  abilities,  as  to  think  that  our  industry 
can  add  nothing  to  the  invention  of  our  ancestors,  or  correct 
any  of  their  mistakes.  Let  us  not  think  that  the  bounds  of 
science  are  fixed  like  Hercules's  Pillars,  and  inscribed  with  a 
ne  plus  ultra.  Let  us  not  think  w^e  have  done  when  we  have 
learnt  what  they  have  delivered  to  us.  The  treasures  of  nature 
are  inexhaustible.  Here  is  employment  enough  for  the  vastest 
parts,  the  most  indefatigable  industries,  the  happiest  opportu- 
nities, the  most  prolix  and  undisturbed  vacancies."  It  is  not 
difficult  to  imagine  the  two  friends  encouraging  each  other  in 
their  laborious  career  by  sentiments  such  as  these  ;  which  are 
as  worthy  to  be  held  in  remembrance  now  that  we  are  reaping 
the  full  advantage  of  their  labours,  and  those  of  their  many 
illustrious  successors,  as  in  the  days  when  natural  history  was, 
for  the  most  part,  a  tissue  of  extravagant  fables  and  puerile 
conceits. 

In  1667  Ray  was  admitted  a  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society  ; 
and  he  executed,  about  that  time,  a  translation  into  Latin  of 
his  friend  Bishop  Wilkins's  work,  on  a  philosophical  and  univer- 
sal language.  In  1670  he  published  the  first  edition  of  his 
<'  Catalogue  of  English  Plants ;"  and  in  1672  appeared  his  <'  Collec- 
tion of  English  Proverbs  ;"  which  he  probably  took  up  as  a  relax- 
ation from  his  more  systematic  pursuits.  In  this  year  he  suf- 
fered the  irreparable  loss  of  his  friend  Willughby.  The  history 
of  letters  presents  us  with  few  more  striking  examples  of  the 
advantages  to  the  world  as  well  as  to  the  individuals  themselves, 
of  such  a  cordial  union  for  a  great  object.      The  affection  of 


JOHN  RAY.  301 

Ray  for  Willugliby  was  of  the  noblest  kind.  He  became  the 
guardian  and  tutor  of  his  children ;  and  he  prepared  his  post- 
humous works  for  publication,  with  additions  from  his  own  pen, 
for  which  he  claimed  no  credit,  with  a  diligence  and  accuracy 
which  showed  that  he  considered  the  reputation  of  his  friend  as 
the  most  sacred  of  all  trusts.  In  1673,  being  in  his  forty-fifth 
year,  Ray  married.  Willughby  had  left  him  an  annuity  of  ^60. 
He  had  three  daughters.  During  the  remainder  of  his  long  life, 
which  reached  to  his  77th  year,  he  resided  in  or  near  his  native 
village,  living  contentedly,  as  a  layman,  upon  very  humble 
means,  but  indefatigably  contributing  to  the  advancement  of 
natural  history,  and  directing  the  study  of  it  to  the  highest 
end, — the  proof  of  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  great  Author 
of  nature. 

The  most  celebrated  of  Ray's  botanical  publications  is  his 
"Synopsis  Methodica  Stirpium  Britannicarum."  Sir  James 
Smith,  in  a  memoir  of  Ray,  in  Rees's  Encyclopaedia,  declares 
that  of  all  the  systematical  and  practical  Floras  of  any  country, 
the  second  edition  of  Ray's  Synopsis  is  the  most  perfect.  The 
same  writer,  in  the  transactions  of  the  Linnsean  Society,  vol.  iv., 
says  of  this  Synopsis,  "he  examined  every  plant  recorded  in  his 
work,  and  even  gathered  most  of  them  himself.  He  investigated 
their  synonyms  with  consummate  accuracy  ;  and  if  the  clearness 
and  precision  of  other  authors  had  equalled  his,  he  would 
scarcely  have  committed  an  error."  Ray's  "Methodus  Planta- 
rum  Nova,"  first  published  in  1682,  has  been  superseded  by  other 
systems ;  but  the  accuracy  of  his  observations,  the  precision  of 
his  language,  and  the  clearness  of  his  general  views,  tended 
greatly  to  the  advancement  of  botanical  science.  His  "  Historia 
Plantarum,"  in  three  vols,  folio,  a  vast  compilation,  including 
all  the  botanical  knowledge  of  his  day,  is  still  in  use,  as  a  book 
of  reference,  by  those  who  especially  devote  themselves  to  this 
study. 

The  zoological  works  of  Ray  have  had  a  more  direct  and  per- 
manent influence  upon  the  advancement  of  natural  history  than 
his  botanical.  Among  his  zoological  productions,  the  best 
authorities  are  agreed  that  we  ought  to  include  the  greater  part 
of  those  edited  by  him  as  the  posthumous  works  of  his  friend 
Willughby.  They  are  conceived  upon  the  same  principle  as 
his  own  History  of  Plants,  and    are  arranged  upon  a  nearly 

2C 


302  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

similar  plan ;  while  the  style  of  each  is  undoubtedly  the  same. 
In  the  original  division  of  their  great  subject,  Ray  had  chosen 
the  vegetable  kingdom,  and  Willughby  the  animal;  and  Ray, 
therefore,  may  have  felt  himself  compelled  to  forego  some  of  his 
own  proper  claims,  that  he  might  raise  a  complete  monument 
to  the  memory  of  his  friend.  The  Ornithology  appeared  in  1676  ; 
the  History  of  Fishes  in  1686.  Ray,  however,  prepared  seve- 
ral very  important  zoological  works,  of  his  entire  claims  to  which 
there  can  be  no  doubt.  The  chief  of  these  are,  "  Synopsis  Me- 
thodica  Animalium  Quadrupedum  et  Serpentini  Generis,"  1693, 
which  he  published  during  his  life ;  "  Synopsis  Methodica  Avium," 
and  <'  Synopsis  Methodica  Piscium,"  edited  by  Derham,  and  pub- 
lished in  1713;  and  ''Historia  Insectorum,"  printed  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  Royal  Society,  in  1710.  "The  peculiar  character 
of  the  zoological  works  of  Ray,"  says  Cuvier,  "consists  in 
clearer  and  more  rigorous  methods  than  those  of  any  of  his  pre- 
decessors, and  applied  with  m.ore  constancy  and  precision. 
The  divisions  which  he  has  introduced  into  the  classes  of  quad- 
rupeds and  birds  have  been  followed  by  the  English  naturalists, 
almost  to  our  own  day ;  and  one  finds  very  evident  traces  of  his 
system  of  birds  in  Linnaeus,  in  Brisson,  in  Buffon,  and  in  all  the 
authors  who  are  occupied  with  this  class  of  animals.  The 
Ornithology  of  Salerne  is  little  more  than  a  translation  from 
the  Synopsis  ;  and  Buffon  has  extracted  from  Willughby  almost 
all  the  anatomical  part  of  his  History  of  Birds.  Daubenton 
and  Hauy  have  translated  the  History  of  Fishes,  in  great  part, 
for  their  Dictionary  of  Ichthyology,  in  the  'Encyclopedia 
M^thodique.'  " 

"The  Wisdom  of  God  in  the  Creation"  is  the  work  upon  which 
the  popular  fame  of  Ray  most  deservedly  rests.  It  is  a  book 
which  perhaps  more  than  any  other  in  our  language  unites  the 
precision  of  science  to  the  warmth  of  devotion.  It  is  delightful 
to  see  the  ardour  with  which  this  good  man  dedicated  himself 
to  the  observation  of  nature,  entering  into  his  views  of  another 
3tate  of  existence,  when  our  knowledge  shall  be  made  perfect, 
and  the  dim  light  with  which  we  grope  amid  the  beautiful  and 
wondrous  objects  by  which  we  are  surrounded,  shall  brighten 
into  complete  day.  "It  is  not  likely,"  says  he,  "  that  eternal 
life  shall  be  a  torpid  and  inactive  state,  or  that  it  shall  consist 
only  in  an  uninterrupted  and  endless  act  of  love  ;  the  other 


JOHN  RAY.  803 

faculties  shall  be  employed  as  well  as  the  will,  in  actions  suitable 
to,  and  perfective  of  their  natures ;  especially  the  understanding, 
the  supreme  faculty  of  the  soul,  which  chiefly  diifers  in  us  from 
brute  beasts,  and  makes  us  capable  of  virtue  and  vice,  of  rewards 
and  punishments,  shall  be  busied  and  employed  in  contemplating 
the  works  of  God,  and  observing  the  divine  art  and  wisdom 
manifested  in  the  structure  and  composition  of  them  ;  and  re- 
flecting upon  their  Great  Architect  the  praise  and  glory  due 
to  him.  Then  shall  we  clearly  see,  to  our  great  satisfaction 
and  admiration,  the  ends  and  uses  of  those  things  which  here 
were  either  too  subtle  for  us  to  penetrate  and  discover,  or  too 
remote  and  unaccessible  for  us  to  come  to  any  distinct  view  of, 
viz.  the  planets  and  fixed  stars  ;  those  illustrious  bodies,  whose 
contents  and  inhabitants,  whose  stores  and  furniture  we  have 
here  so  longing  a  desire  to  know,  as  also  their  mutual  subservi- 
ency to  each  other.  Now  the  mind  of  man  being  not  capable 
at  once  to  advert  to  more  than  one  thing,  a  particular  view  and 
examination  of  such  an  innumerable  number  of  vast  .bodies,  and 
the  great  multitude  of  species  both  of  animate  and  inanimate 
beings,  which  each  of  them  contains,  will  afl"ord  matter  enough 
to  exercise  and  employ  our  minds,  I  do  not  say  to  all  eternity, 
but  to  many  ages,  should  we  do  nothing  else."* 

In  addition  to  his  "  Wisdom  of  God,"  Ray  published  three 
<'  Physico-Theological  Discourses,  concerning  the  Chaos,  Deluge, 
and  Dissolution  of  the  World."  "  This  last  presents  to  us,"  to 
use  the  words  of  Cuvier,  "  a  system  of  geology  as  plausible  as 
any  of  those  which  had  appeared  at  this  epoch,  or  for  a  long 
time  afterwards."  He  also  printed  a  work  expressly  of  a  theo- 
logical character,  "  A  Persuasive  to  a  Holy  Life." 

Ray  died  on  the  17th  of  January,  1705,  at  his  native  place 
of  Black  Notley,  whither  he  had  retired,  at  Midsummer,  1679, 
as  he  himself  expressed,  "  for  the  short  pittance  of  time  he  had 
yet  to  live  in  this  world."  His  memory  has  been  done  justice 
to  by  his  countrymen.  A  most  interesting  commemoration  of 
him  was  held  in  London,  on  the  29th  of  November,  1828,  being 
the  two  hundredth  anniversary  of  his  birth. 

*  «'  Wisdom  of  God  in  the  Creation,"  p.  199,  fifth  edition. 


tt04 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


ARCHBISHOP    FENELON 


RANCOIS  DE  SALIGNAC  DE  LAMOTHE- 
FENELON  was  born  August  6,  1651,  at  the 
castle  of  Fenelon,  of  a  noble  and  ancient 
family  in  the  province  of  Perigord. 

Early  proofs  of  talent  and  genius  induced 
his  uncle,  the  Marquis  de  Fenelon,  a  man  of 
no  ordinary  merit,  to  take  him  under  his  imme- 
liate  care  and  superintendence.  By  him  he  was 
placed  at  the  seminary  of  St.  Sulpice,  then  lately 
founded  in  Paris  for  the  purpose  of  educating  young 
men  for  the  church. 
The  studies  of  the  young  abb^  were  not  encouraged 
by  visions  of  a  stall  and  mitre.  It  seems  that  the 
object  of  his  earliest  ambition  was,  as  a  missionary,  to 
carry  the  blessings  of  the  gospel  to  the  savages  of  North 
America,  or  to  the  Mohammedans  and  heretics  of  Greece 
and  Anatolia.  The  fears,  however,  or  the  hopes  of  his  friends 
detained  him  at  home,  and  after  his  ordination  he  confined  him- 
self for  several  years  to  the  duties  of  the  ministry  in  the  parish 
of  St.  Sulpice. 

At  the  age  of  twenty-seven  he  was  appointed  superior  of  a 
society  which  had  for  its  object  the  instruction  and  encourage- 
ment of  female  converts  to  the  church  of  Rome ;  and  from  this 
time  he  took  up  his  abode  with  his  uncle.  In  this  house  he  first 
became  known  to  Bossuet,  by  whose  recommendation  he  was 
intrusted  with  the  conduct  of  a  mission  charged  with  the  duty 
of  reclaiming  the  Protestants  in  the  province  of  Poitou,  in  the 
memorable  year  1685,  when  the  Huguenots  were  writhing  under 
the  infliction  of  the  dragonade,  employed  by  the  government  to 
irive  full  eff'ect  to  the  revocation  of  the  edict  of  Nantes.  Fene- 
'on  had  no  mind  to  have  dragoons  for  his  coadjutors,  and  re- 


ARCHBISHOP   FENELON.  305 

quested  that  all  show  of  martial  terror  might  bj  removed  from 
the  places  which  he  visited.  His  future  proceedings  were  in 
strict  conformity  with  this  gentle  commencement,  and  conse- 
quently exposed  him  to  the  harassing  remonstrances  of  his 
superiors. 

His  services  in  Poitou  were  not  acknowledged  by  any  reward 
from  the  government,  for  Louis  XIV.  had  begun  to  look  coldly 
upon  him ;  but  it  was  not  his  fortune  to  remain  long  in  obscurity. 
Among  the  visitors  at  his  uncle's  house,  whose  friendship  he  had 
the  happiness  to  gain,  was  the  Duke  de  Beauvilliers,  a  man  who 
could  live  at  the  court  of  Louis  without  ceasing  to  live  as  a 
Christian.  This  nobleman  was  appointed,  in  the  year  1689, 
governor  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  the  grandson  of  Louis,  and 
heir,  after  his  father  the  dauphin,  to  the  throne  of  France. 
His  first  act  was  to  appoint  Fenelon  preceptor  to  his  royal 
charge,  then  in  his  eighth  year,  and  already  distinguished  for 
the  frightful  violence  of  his  passions,  his  insolent  demeanour, 
and  tyrannical  spirit.  The  child  had,  however,  an  affectionate 
heart  and  a  quick  sense  of  shame.  Fenelon  gained  his  love  and 
confidence,  and  used  his  power  to  impress  upon  him  the  Chris- 
tian's method  of  self-government.  His  headstrong  pupil  was 
subdued,  not  by  the  fear  of  man,  but  by  the  fear  of  God.  In 
the  task  of  instruction  less  difficulty  awaited  him ;  for  the  young 
prince  was  remarkably  intelligent  and  industrious.  The  pro- 
gress of  a  royal  student  is  likely  to  be  rated  at  his  full  amount 
by  common  fame ;  but  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  in  this 
case  it  was  rapid  and  substantial. 

In  1694  he  was  presented  to  the  Abbey  of  St.  Yalery,  and 
two  years  afterwards  promoted  to  the  Archbishopric  of  Cambray, 
with  a  command  that  he  should  retain  his  office  of  preceptor, 
giving  personal  attendance  only  during  the  three  months  of 
absence  from  h'is  diocese  which  the  canons  allowed.  In  resign- 
ing his  abbey,  which  from  conscientious  motives  he  refused  to 
keep  with  his  archbishopric,  he  was  careful  to  assign  such 
reasons  as  might  not  convey  an  indirect  censure  of  the  numerous 
pluralists  among  his  clerical  brethren.  Probably  this  excess  of 
ielicacy,  which  it  is  easy  to  admire  and  difficult  to  justify,  was 
hardly  requisite  in  the  case  of  many  of  the  offenders.  One  of 
them,  the  Archbishop  of  Rheims,  when  informed  of  the  con 
scienticus  conduct  of  Fenelon,  made  the  following  reply:  "M 
39  2c  2 


506  LI\'ES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

de  Cambraj  with  his  sentiments  does  right  in  resigning  his 
benefice,  and  I  with  mj  sentiments  do  very  right  in  keeping 
mine."  This  mode  of  defence  is  capable  of  very  general  appli- 
cation, and  is  in  fact  very  generally  used,  being  good  for  other 
cases  besides  that  of  pluralities. 

This  preferment  was  the  last  mark  of  royal  favour  which  he 
received.  Louis  was  never  cordially  his  friend,  and  there  were 
many  at  court  eager  to  convert  him  into  an  enemy.  An  oppor- 
tunity was  afibrded  by  Fenelon's  connection  with  Madame  Guyon. 

It  is  well  known  that  this  lady  was  the  great  apostle  of  the 
Quietists,  a  sect  of  religionists,  so  called,  because  they  studied 
to  attain  a  state  of  perfect  contemplation,  in  which  the  soul  is 
the  passive  recipient  of  divine  light.  She  was  especially  noted 
for  her  doctrine  of  pure  love;  she  taught  that  Christian  per- 
fection consisted  in  a  disinterested  love  of  God,  excluding  the 
hope  of  happiness  and  fear  of  misery,  and  that  this  perfection 
was  attainable  by  man.  Fenelon  first  became  acquainted  with 
her  at  the  house  of  his  friend  the  Duke  de  Beauvilliers,  and, 
convinced  of  the  sincerity  of  her  religion,  was  disposed  to  regard 
her  more  favourably  from  a  notion  that  her  religious  opinions, 
against  which  a  loud  clamour  had  been  raised,  coincided  very 
nearly  with  his  own.  It  has  been  the  fashion  to  represent  him 
as  her  convert  and  disciple.  The  truth  is,  that  he  was  deeply 
versed  in  the  writings  of  the  later  mystics;  men  who,  with  all 
their  extravagance,  were  perhaps  the  best  representatives  of 
the  Christian  character  to  be  found  among  the  Roman  Catholics 
of  their  time.  He  considered  the  doctrine  of  Madame  Guyon 
to  be  substantially  the  same  with  that  of  his  favourite  authors ; 
and  whatever  appeared  exceptionable  in  her  expositions,  he 
attributed  to  loose  and  exaggerated  expression  natural  to  her 
sex  and  character. 

The  approbation  of  Fenelon  gave  currency  to  the  fair  Quietist 
among  orthodox  members  of  the  church.  At  last  the  bishops 
began  to  take  alarm ;  the  clamour  was  renewed,  and  the  ex- 
fimination  of  her  doctrines  solemnly  intrusted  to  Bossuet  and 
two  other  learned  divines.  Fenelon  was  avowedly  her  friend ; 
yet  no  one  hitherto  had  breathed  a  suspicion  of  any  flaw  in  his 
orthodoxy.  It  was  even  during  the  examination,  and  towards 
the  close  of  it,  that  he  was  promoted  to  the  Archbishopric  of 
Cambray.     The  blow  came  at  length  from  the  hand  of  his  most 


ARCHBISHOP    FENLLON.  30T 

valued  friend.  He  had  been  altogether  passive  in  the  pro- 
ceedings respecting  Madame  Guyon.  Bossuet,  who  had  been 
provoked  into  vehement  wrath,  and  had  resolved  to  crush  her, 
was  sufficiently  irritated  by  this  temperate  neutrality.  But 
when  Fenelon  found  himself  obliged  to  publish  his  "  Maxims  of 
the  Saints,"  in  which,  without  attacking  others,  he  defends  his 
own  views  of  some  of  the  controverted  points,  Bossuet,  in  a 
tumult  of  zeal,  threw  himself  at  the  feet  of  Louis,  denounced 
his  friend  as  a  dangerous  fanatic,  and  besought  the  king  to  in- 
terpose the  royal  arm  between  the  church  and  pollution.  Fe- 
nelon offered  to  submit  his  book  to  the  judgment  of  the  pope. 
Permission  was  granted  in  very  ungracious  terms,  and  presently 
followed  by  a  sentence  of  banishment  to  his  diocese.  Thi« 
sudden  reverse  of  fortune,  which  he  received  without  even  whis 
paring  a  complaint,  served  to  show  the  forbearance  and  meek- 
ness of  his  spirit,  but  it  deprived  him  of  none  of  his  powers. 
An  animated  controversy  arose  between  him  and  Bossuet,  and 
all  Europe  beheld  with  admiration  the  boldness  and  success  with 
which  he  maintained  his  ground  against  the  renowned  and  vete- 
ran disputant ;  and  that,  too,  in  the  face  of  fearful  discourage- 
ment. The  whole  power  of  the  court  was  arrayed  against  him, 
and  he  stood  alone,  for  his  powerful  friends  had  left  his  side. 
The  Cardinal  de  Noailles  and  others,  who  had  in  private  ex- 
pressed unqualified  approbation  of  his  book,  meanly  withheld  a 
public  acknowledgment  of  their  opinions.  While  his  enemy 
enjoyed  every  facility,  and  had  Louis  and  his  courtiers  and 
courtly  bishops  to  cheer  him  on,  it  was  with  difficulty  that  Fe- 
nelon could  find  a  printer  who  would  venture  to  put  to  the  press 
a  work  which  bore  his  name.  Under  these  disadvantages, 
harassed  in  mind,  and  with  infirm  health,  he  replied  to  the 
deliberate  and  artful  attacks  of  his  adversary  with  a  rapidity 
which,  under  any  circumstances,  would  have  been  astonishing. 
He  was  now  gaining  ground  daily  in  public  opinion.  The  pope 
also,  who  knew  his  merit,  was  very  unwilling  to  condemn.  His 
persecutors  were  excited  to  additional  efforts.  He  had  already 
been  banished  from  court ;  now  he  was  deprived  of  the  name  of 
preceptor,  and  of  his  salary, — of  that  very  salary  which  some 
time  before  he  had  eagerly  offered  to  resign,  in  consideration 
of  the  embarrassed  state  of  the  royal  treasury.  The  flagging 
Beal  of  the  f  3pe  was  stimulated  by  threats  conveyed  in     -iters 


308  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

from  Louis  penned  by  Bossuet.  At  length  the  sentence  of  con^ 
demnation  was  obtained;  but  in  too  mild  a  form  to  satisfy 
altogether  the  courtly  party.  No  bull  was  issued.  A  simple 
brief  pronounced  certain  propositions  to  be  erroneous  and  dan- 
gerous, and  condemned  the  book  which  contained  them,  without 
sentencing  it  in  the  usual  manner  to  the  flames. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  Fenelon  submitted.  He  published 
without  delay  the  sentence  of  condemnation,  noting  the  selected 
propositions,  and  expressing  his  entire  acquiescence  in  the  judg- 
ment pronounced;  and  prohibited  the  faithful  in  his  diocese 
from  reading  or  having  in  their  possession  his  own  work,  which 
up  to  that  moment  he  had  defended  so  manfully.  Protestants, 
who  are  too  apt,  in  judging  the  conduct  of  Roman  Catholics,  to 
forget  every  thing  but  their  zeal,  have  raised  an  outcry  against 
his  meanness  and  dissimulation.  Fenelon  was  a  sincere  member 
of  a  church  which  claimed  infallibility.  We  may  regret  the 
thraldom  in  which  such  a  mind  was  held  by  an  authority  from 
which  the  Protestant  happily  is  free ;  but  the  censure  which 
falls  on  him  personally  for  this  act  is  certainly  misplaced. 

The  faint  hopes  which  his  friends  might  have  cherished,  that 
when  the  storm  had  passed  he  would  be  restored  to  favour,  were 
soon  extinguished  by  an  event  which,  while  it  closed  against 
him  for  ever  the  doors  of  the  palace,  secured  him  a  place  in 
history,  and  without  which  it  is  probable  that  he  would  never 
have  become  the  subject  even  of  a  short  memoir. 

A  manuscript  which  he  had  intrusted  to  a  servant  to  copy 
was  treacherously  sold  by  this  man  to  a  printer  in  Paris,  who 
immediately  put  it  to  the  press,  under  the  title  of  "  Continuation 
of  the  Fourth  Book  of  the  Odyssey,  or  Adventures  of  Telema- 
chus.  Son  of  Ulysses,  with  the  Boyal  Privilege,"  dated  April 
6,  1699.  It  was  told  at  court  that  the  forthcoming  work  was 
from  the  pen  of  the  obnoxious  archbishop;  and  before  the  im- 
pression of  the  first  volume  was  completed,  orders  were  given  to 
suppress  it,  to  punish  the  printers,  and  seize  the  copies  already 
printed.  A  few  however  escaped  the  hands  of  the  police,  and 
were  rapidly  circulated.  One  of  them,  together  with  a  copy 
of  the  remaining  part  of  the  manuscript,  soon  after  came  into 
the  possession  of  a  printer  at  the  Hague,  who  could  publish  it 
without  danger. 

So  eager  was  the  curiosity  which  the  violent  proceedings  of 


ARCHBISHOP   FENELON.  309 

the  French  court  had  excited,  that  the  press  could  hardly  bo 
made,  with  the  utmost  exertion,  to  keep  pace  with  the  demand. 
Such  is  the  history  of  the  first  appearance  of  Telemachus. 

Louis  was  persuaded  to  think  that  the  whole  book  was  in- 
tended to  be  a  satire  on  him,  his  court,  and  government ;  and 
the  world  was  persuaded  for  a  time  to  think  the  same.  So 
while  the  wrath  of  the  king  was  roused  to  the  uttermost,  all 
Europe  was  sounding  forth  the  praises  of  Fenelon.  The  nume- 
rous enemies  of  Louis  exulted  at  the  supposed  exhibition  of  hia 
tyranny  and  profligate  life.  The  philosophers  were  charmed 
with  the  liberal  and  enlightened  views  of  civil  government 
■which  they  seemed  to  discover.  It  is  now  well  known  that  the 
anger  and  the  praise  were  alike  undeserved.  The  book  was 
probably  written  for  the  use  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  certainly 
at  a  time  when  Fenelon  enjoyed  the  favour  of  his  sovereign,  and 
was  desirous  to  retain  it.  He  may  have  forgotten  that  it  was 
impossible  to  describe  a  good  and  a  bad  king,  a  virtuous  and  a 
profligate  court,  without  saying  much  that  would  bear  hard  upon 
Louis  and  his  friends.  As  for  his  political  enlightenment,  it  is 
certain  that  he  had  his  full  share  of  the  monarchical  principles 
of  his  time  and  nation.  He  wished  to  have  good  kings,  but  he 
made  no  provision  for  bad  ones.  It  is  diflacult  to  believe  that 
Louis  was  seriously  alarmed  at  his  notions  of  political  economy. 
That  science  was  not  in  a  very  advanced  state;  but  no  one 
could  fear  that  a  prince  could  be  induced  by  the  lessons  of  his 
tutor  to  collect  all  the  artificers  of  luxury  in  his  capital,  and 
drive  '  them  in  a  body  into  the  fields  to  cultivate  potatoes  and 
cabbages,  with  a  belief  that  he  would  thus  make  the  country  a 
garden,  and  the  town  a  seat  of  the  Muses. 

Nothing  was  now  left  to  Fenelon  but  to  devote  himself  to  his 
episcopal  duties,  which  he  seems  to  have  discharged  with  equal 
zeal  and  ability.  The  course  of  his  domestic  life,  as  described 
by  an  eye-witness,  was  retired,  and,  to  a  remarkable  degree, 
uniform.  Strangers  were  courteously  and  hospitably  received ; 
but  his  society  was  confined  for  the  most  part  to  the  ecclesiastics 
who  resided  in  his  house.  Among  them  were  some  of  his  own 
relations,  to  whom  he  was  tenderly  attached,  but  for  whose  pre- 
ferment, it  should  be  noticed,  he  never  manifested  an  unbe- 
coming eagerness.  His  only  recreation  was  a  solitary  walk  in 
the  fields,  where  it  was  his  employment,  as  he   observes  to  a 


310  LIVES   OF   EMINENT  C.TRISTl    NP. 

friend,  to  converse  with  his  God.  If  in  his  rambles  he  fell  in 
with  any  of  the  poorer  part  of  his  flock;  he  would  sit  with  them 
on  the  grass,  and  discourse  about  their  temporal  as  well  as  their 
spiritual  concerns ;  and  sometimes  he  would  visit  them  in  their 
humble  sheds,  and  partake  of  such  refreshment  as  they  offered 
him. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  18th  century  we  find  him  engage  1  at 
once  in  controversy  and  politics.  The  revival  of  the  old  dis- 
pute with  the  Jansenists,  to  whom  he  was  strongly  opposed, 
obliged  him  to  take  up  his  pen ;  but  in  using  it  he  never  forgot 
his  own  maxim,  that  "rigour  and  severity  are  not  the  spirit  of 
the  gospel."  For  a  knowledge  of  his  political  labours  we  are 
indebted  to  his  biographer,  the  Cardinal  de  Bausset,  who  first 
published  his  letters  to  the  Duke  de  Beauviliiers  on  the  subject 
of  the  war  which  followed  the  grand  alliance  in  the  year  1701. 
In  them  he  not  only  considers  the  general  questions  of  the 
succession  to  the  Spanish  monarchy,  the  objects  of  the  con- 
federated powers,  and  the  measures  best  calculated  to  avert  or 
soften  their  hostility,  but  even  enters  into  details  of  military 
operations,  discusses  the  merits  of  the  various  generals,  stations 
the  different  armies,  and  sketches  a  plan  of  the  campaign. 
Towards  the  close  of  the  war  he  communicated  to  the  Duke  de 
Chevreuse  heads  of  a  very  extensive  reform  in  all  the  depart- 
ments of  government.  This  reform  did  not  suppose  any  funda- 
mental change  of  the  old  despotism.  It  was  intended,  doubtless, 
for  the  consideration  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  to  whose  suc- 
cession all  France  was  looking  forward  with  sanguine  hopes, 
founded  on  the  acknowledged  excellence  of  his  character,  which 
Fenelon  himself  had  so  htippily  contributed  to  form.  But 
among  the  other  trials  which  visited  his  latter  days,  he  was 
destined  to  mourn  the  death  of  his  pupil. 

Fenelon  did  not  long  survive  the  general  pacification.  After 
a  short  illness  and  intense  bodily  suff'ering,  which  he  seems  to 
have  supported  by  calling  to  mind  the  sufferings  of  his  Saviour, 
he  died  February  7th,  1715,  in  the  sixty-fourth  year  of  his  age. 
No  money  was  found  in  his  coffers.  The  produce  of  th^  sale 
of  his  furniture,  together  with  the  arrears  of  rent  due  to  him, 
were  appropriated,  by  his  direction,  to  pious  and  chr  itable 
purposes. 

The  calumnies  with  which  he  was  assailed  during  thf      '^air 


ARCHBISHOP     JENELON.  Sll 

•of  Quietism  were  remembered  only  to  the  disadvantage  of  theii 
authors.  The  public  seem  eventually  to  have  regarded  him  as 
a  man  who  was  persecuted  because  he  refused  to  be  a  persecutor; 
who  had  maintained,  at  all  hazards,  what  he  believed  to  be  the 
cause  of  truth  and  justice;  and  had  resigned  his  opinion  only 
at  that  moment  when  conscience  required  the  sacrifice. 

Universal  homage  was  paid  by  his  contemporaries  to  his 
talents  and  genius.  In  the  grasp  and  power  of  his  intellect, 
and  in  the  extent  and  completeness  of  his  knowledge,  none 
probably  would  have  ventured  to  compare  him  with  Bossuet; 
but  in  fertility  and  brilliancy  of  imagination,  in  a  ready  and 
dexterous  use  of  his  materials,  and  in  that  quality  which  his 
countrymen  call  esprit^  he  was  supposed  to  have  no  superior. 
Bossuet  himself  said  of  him  "  II  brille  d'esprit,  il  est  tout  esprit, 
il  en  a  bien  plus  que  moi." 

It  is  obvious  that  his  great  work,  the  Adventures  of  Telema- 
chus,  was,  in  the  first  instance,  indebted  for  some  portion  of  its 
popularity  to  circumstances  which  had  no  connection  with  its 
merits ;  but  we  cannot  attribute  to  the  same  cause  the  continued 
hold  which  it  has  maintained  on  the  public  favour.  Those  who 
are  ignorant  of  the  interest  which  attended  its  first  appearance 
still  feel  the  charm  of  that  beautiful  language  which  is  mad( 
the  vehicle  of  the  purest  morality  and  the  most  ennobling  sen 
timents.  In  the  many  editions  through  which  it  passed,  between 
its  fir^t  publication  and  the  death  of  the  author,  Fenelon  took 
no  concern.  Publicly  he  neither  avowed  nor  disavowed  the 
work,  though  he  prepared  corrections  and  additions  for  future 
editors.  All  obstacles  to  its  open  circulation  ivere  removed  by 
the  death  of  Louis ;  and  in  the  year  1717,  the  Marquis  de 
Fenelon,  his  great  nephew,  presented  to  Louis  XV.  a  new  and 
correct  edition,  superintended  by  himself,  from  which  the  text 
of  all  subsequent  editions  has  been  taken. 

The  best  authority  for  the  life  of  Fenelon  accessible  to  the 
public  is  the  laborious  work  of  his  biographer,  the  Cardinal  de 
Bausset,  which  is  rendered  particularly  valuable  by  the  great 
number  of  original  documents  which  appear  at  the  end  of  each 
volume.  Its  value  would  be  increased  if  much  of  the  theological 
discussion  tyere  omitted,  and  the  four  volumes  compressed 
into  three 


S12 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


WILLIAM  PENN. 


ILLIAM  PENN  was  born  in  London,  Octo- 
ber 14,  1644.  He  was  the  son  of  a  naval 
officer  of  the  same  name,  who  served  with  dis- 
tinction both  in  the  Protectorate  and  after 
the  Restoration,  and  who  was  much  esteemed 
by  Charles  II.  and  the  Duke  of  York.  At 
the  age  of  fifteen,  he  was  entered  as  a  gentle- 
man-commoner at  Christ  Church,  Oxford.  He 
had  not  been  long  in  residence,  when  he  received, 
from  the  preaching  of  Thomas  Loe,  his  first  bias 
towards  the  doctrines  of  the  Quakers  ;  and  in  con- 
junction with  some  fellow-students,  he  began  to 
withdraw  from  attendance  on  the  established  church, 
and  to  hold  private  prayer-meetings.  For  this  con- 
duct Penn  and  his  friends  were  fined  by  the  college 
for  nonconformity;  and  the  former  was  soon  involved 
in  more  serious  censure  by  his  ill-governed  zeal,  in  consequence 
of  an  order  from  the  king,  that  the  ancient  custom  of  wearing 
surplices  should  be  revived.  This  seemed  to  Penn  an  infringe- 
ment of  the  simplicity  of  Christian  worship :  whereupon  he, 
with  some  friends,  tore  the  surplices  from  the  backs  of  those  stu- 
dents who  appeared  in  them.  For  this  act  of  violence,  totally 
inconsistent,  it  is  to  be  observed,  with  the  principles  of  tolera- 
tion which  regulated  his  conduct  in  after-life,  he  and  they  were 
very  justly  expelled. 

Admiral  Penn,  who  like  most  sailors  possessed  a  quick  tem- 
per and  high  notions  of  discipline  and  obedience,  was  little 
pleased  with  this  event,  and  still  less  satisfied  with  his  son's  grave 
demeanour,  and  avoidance  of  the  manners  and  ceremonies  of  polite 
life.  Arguments  failing,  he  had  recourse  to  blows,  and  as  a  last 
resource,  he  turned  his  son  out  of  doors ;  but  soon  relented  so 
far  as  to  equip  him,  in  1662,  for  a  journey  to  France,  in  hope 


PENN'S  TREATY  WITH  THE  INDIANS. 


WILLIAM   PENN.  S13 

that  the  gayetj'  of  that  country  would  expel  his  new-fashioned 
and,  as  he  regarded  them,  fanatical  notions.  Paris,  however, 
soon  became  wearisome  to  William  Penn,  and  he  spent  a  con- 
siderable time  at  Saumur,  for  the  sake  of  the  instruction  and 
company  of  Moses  Amyrault,  an  eminent  Protestant  divine. 
Here  he  confirmed  and  improved  his  religious  impressions,  and 
at  the  same  time  acquired,  from  the  insensible  influence  of  those 
who  surrounded  him,  an  increased  polish  and  courtliness  of  de- 
meanour, which  greatly  gratified  the  admiral  on  his  return  home 
in  1664. 

Admiral  Penn  went  to  sea  in  1664,  and  remained  two  years 
on  Service.  During  this  time  the  external  effects  of  his  son's 
residence  in  France  had  worn  away,  and  he  had  returned  to 
those  grave  habits,  and  that  rule  of  associating  only  with  re- 
ligious people,  which  had  before  given  his  father  so  much  dis- 
pleasure. To  try  the  effect  of  absence  and  change  of  associates. 
Admiral  Penn  sent  William  to  manage  his  estates  in  Ireland,  a 
duty  which  the  latter  performed  with  satisfaction  both  to  him- 
self and  his  employer.  But  it  chanced  that,  on  a  visit  to  Cork, 
he  again  attended  the  preaching  of  Thomas  Loe,  by  whose  ex- 
hortations he  was  deeply  impressed.  From  this  time  he  began 
to  frequent  the  Quakers'  meetings  ;  and  in  September,  1667,  he 
was  imprisoned,  with  others,  under  the  persecuting  laws  which 
then  disgraced  our  statute  book.  Upon  application  to  the  higher 
authorities,  he  was  soon  released. 

Upon  receiving  tidings  that  William  had  connected  himself 
with  the  Quakers,  the  admiral  immediately  summoned  him  to 
England ;  and  he  soon  became  certified  of  the  fact,  among  other 
peculiarities,  by  his  son's  pertinacious  adherence  to  the  Quaker's 
notions  concerning  what  they  call  Hat  Worship.  This  led  him 
to  a  violent  remonstrance.  William  Penn  behaved  with  due 
respect ;  but  in  the  main  point,  that  of  forsaking  his  associates 
and  rule  of  conduct,  he  yielded  nothing.  The  father  confined 
his  demands  at  last  to  the  simple  point,  that  his  son  should  sit 
uncovered  in  the  presence  of  himself,  the  king,  and  the  Duke  of 
York.  Still  William  Penn  felt  bound  to  make  not  even  this 
concession ;  and,  on  this  refusal,  the  admiral  again  turned  him 
out  of  doors. 

Soon  after,  in  1668,  he  began  to  preach,  and  in  the  same 
year,  he  published  his  first  work,  "Truth  Exalted,"  &c.  We 
40  2D 


814  TJYES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

cannot  here  notice  his  very  numerous  works,  of  which  the  titles 
run,  for  the  most  part,  to  an  extraordinary  length :  but  "  The 
Sandy  Foundation  Shaken,"  published  in  the  same  year,  claims 
notice,  as  having  led  to  his  first  public  persecution.  In  it  he 
was  induced,  not  to  deny  the  doctrine  of  the  trinity,  which  in  a 
certain  sense  he  admitted,  but  to  object  to  the  language  in  which 
it  is  expounded  by  the  English  church ;  and  for  this  offence  he 
was  imprisoned  for  some  time  in  the  Tower.  During  this  con- 
finement, he  composed  ^'No  Cross,  no  Crown,"  one  of  his  prin- 
cipal and  most  popular  works,  of  which  the  leading  doctrine, 
admirably  exemplified  in  his  own  life,  was,  that  the  way  to  future 
happiness  and  glory  lies,  in  this  world,  not  through  a  course  of 
misery  and  needless  mortification,  but  still  through  labour, 
watchfulness,  and  self-denial,  and  continual  striving  against  cor- 
rupt passions  and  inordinate  indulgences.  This  is  enforced  by 
copious  examples  from  profane  as  well  as  sacred  history ;  and 
the  work  gives  evidence  of  an  extent  of  learning  very  credit- 
able to  its  author,  considering  his  youth,  and  the  circumstances 
under  which  it  was  composed.  He  was  detained  in  prison  foi 
seven  months,  and  treated  with  much  severity.  In  1669  he 
had  the  satisfaction  of  being  reconciled  to  his  father. 

William  Penn  was  one  of  the  first  sufferers  by  the  passing  of 
the  Conventicle  Act,  in  1670.  He  was  imprisoned  in  Newgate, 
and  tried  for  preaching  to  a  seditious  and  riotous  assembly  in 
Gracechurch  street ;  and  this  trial  is  remarkable  and  celebrated 
in  criminal  jurisprudence,  for  the  firmness  with  which  he  defended 
himself,  and  still  more  for  the  admirable  courage  and  constancy 
with  which  the  jury  maintained  the  verdict  of  acquittal  which 
they  pronounced.  He  showed  on  this,  and  on  all  other  occa- 
sions, that  he  well  understood  and  appreciated  the  free  principles 
of  the  British  constitution,  and  that  he  was  resolved  not  to  sur- 
render one  iota  of  that  liberty  of  conscience  which  he  claimed 
for  others,  as  well  as  for  himself.  "I  am  far  from  thinking  it 
fit,"  he  said,  in  addressing  the  House  of  Commons,  <' because  1 
exclaim  against  the  injustice  of  whipping  Quakers  for  Papists, 
that  Papists  should  be  whipped  for  their  consciences.  No,  for 
though  the  hand  pretended  to  be  lifted  up  against  them  hath 
lighted  heavily  upon  us,  and  we  complain,  yet  we  do  not  mean 
that  any  should  take  a  fresh  aim  at  them,  or  that  they  should 
come  in   our  room,  for  we  must  give  the  liberty  we  ask,  and 


WILLIAM   PENN.  315 

would  have  none  suifer  for  a  truly  sober  and  conscitLtious  dis- 
sent on  any  hand."  His  views  of  religious  toleration  and  civil 
liberty  he  has  well  and  clearly  explained  in  the  treatise  entitled 
"England's  present  Interest,  &c.,"  published  in  1674,  in  which 
it  formed  part  of  his  argument  that  the  liberties  of  Englishmen 
were  anterior  to  the  settlement  of  the  English  church,  and  could 
not  be  affected  by  discrepancies  in  their  religious  belief.  He 
maintained  that  "to  live  honestly,  to  do  no  injury  to  another, 
and  to  give  every  man  his  due,  was  enough  to  entitle  every 
native  to  English  privileges.  It  was  this,  and  not  his  religion, 
which  gave  him  the  great  claim  to  the  protection  of  the  govern- 
ment under  which  he  lived.  Near  three  hundred  years  before 
Austin  set  his  foot  on  English  ground,  the  inhabitants  had  a 
good  constitution.  This  came  not  in  with  him.  Neither  did  it 
come  in  with  Luther;  nor  was  it  to  go  out  with  Calvin.  We 
were  a  free  people  by  the  creation  of  God,  by  the  redemption 
of  Christ,  and  by  the  careful  provision  of  our  never-to-be-for- 
gotten, honourable  ancestors  :  so  that  our  claim  to  these  English 
privileges,  rising  higher  than  Protestantism,  could  never  justly 
be  invalidated  on  account  of  nonconformity  to  any  tenet  or 
fashion  it  might  prescribe  " 

In  the  same  year  died  Sir  William  Penn,  in  perfect  harmony 
with  his  son,  towards  whom  he  now  felt  the  most  cordial  regard 
and  esteem,  and  to  whom  he  bequeathed  an  estate  computed  at 
1500Z.  a  year,  a  large  sum  in  that  age.  Towards  the  end  of  the 
year  he  was  again  imprisoned  in  Newgate  for  six  months,  the 
statutable  penalty  for  refusing  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance, 
which  was  maliciously  tendered  to  him  by  a  magistrate.  This 
appears  to  have  been  the  last  absolute  persecution  for  religion's 
sake  which  he  endured.  Religion  in  England  has  generally  met 
with  more  toleration,  in  proportion  as  it  has  been  backed  by 
the  worldly  importance  of  its  professors :  and  though  his  poor 
brethren  continued  to  suffer  imprisonment  in  the  stocks,  fines, 
and  whipping,  as  the  penalty  of  their  peaceable  meetings  for 
Divine  worship,  the  wealthy  proprietor,  though  he  travelled 
largely,  both  in  England  and  abroad,  and  laboured  both  in 
writing  and  in  preaching,  as  the  missionary  of  his  sect,  both 
escaped  injury,  and  acquired  reputation  and  esteem  by  his  self- 
devotion.  To  the  favour  of  the  king  and  the  Duke  of  York  he 
had  a  hereditary  claim,  which  appears  always  to  have  been 


3lQ  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

cheerfully  acknowledged;  and  an  instance  of  the  rising  cons* 
deration  in  which  he  was  held,  appears  in  his  being  admitted  to 
plead,  before  a  committee  of  the  House  of  Commons,  the  request 
of  the  Quakers  that  their  solemn  affirmation  should  be  admitted 
in  the  place  of  an  oath.  An  enactment  to  this  effect  passed  the 
Commons  in  1678,  but  was  lost,  in  consequence  of  a  proroga- 
tion, before  it  had  passed  the  Lords.  It  was  on  this  occasion 
that  he  made  that  appeal  in  behalf  of  general  toleration,  of 
which  a  part  is  quoted  in  the  preceding  page. 

Penn  married  in  1672,  and  took  up  his  abode  at  Rickmans- 
worth,  in  Hertfordshire.  In  1677  we  find  him  removed  to 
Worminghurst,  in  Sussex,  which  long  continued  to  be  his  place 
of  residence.  His  first  engagement  in  the  plantation  of  America 
was  in  1676  ;  in  consequence  of  being  chosen  arbitrator  in  a  dis- 
pute between  two  Quakers,  who  had  become  jointly  concerned 
in  the  colony  of  New  Jersey.  Though  nowise  concerned,  by 
interest  or  proprietorship,  (until  1681,  w^hen  he  purchased  a 
share  in  the  eastern  district  in  New  Jersey,)  he  took  great  pains 
in  this  business ;  he  arranged  terms,  upon  which  colonists  were 
invited  to  settle;  and  he  drew  up  the  outline  of  a  simple  consti- 
tution, reserving  to  them  the  right  of  making  all  laws  by  their 
representatives,  of  security  from  imprisonment  or  fine  except 
by  the  consent  of  twelve  men  of  the  neighbourhood,  and  perfect 
freedom  in  the  exercise  of  their  religion :  "regulations,"  he  said, 
"by  an  adherence  to  which  they  could  never  be  brought  into 
bondage  but  by  their  own  consent."  In  these  transactions  he 
had  the  opportunity  of  contemplating  the  glorious  results  which 
might  be  hoped  from  a  colony  founded  with  no  interested  views, 
but  on  the  principles  of  universal  peace,  toleration,  and  liberty  : 
and  he  felt  an  earnest  desire  to  be  the  instrument  in  so  great  a 
work,  more  especially  as  it  held  out  a  prospect  of  deliverance  to 
his  persecuted  Quaker  brethren  in  England,  by  giving  them  a 
free  and  happy  asylum  in  a  foreign  land.  Circumstances  fa- 
voured his  wish.  The  crown  was  indebted  to  him  16,000Z.  for 
money  advanced  by  the  late  admiral  for  the  naval  service.  It 
was  not  unusual  to  grant  not  only  the  property,  but  the  right 
of  government,  in  large  districts  in  the  unclearedpart  of  America, 
as  in  the  case  of  New  York  and  New  Jersey  respectively  to  the 
Duke  of  York  and  Lord  Baltimore :  and  though  it  Avas  hopeless 
to  extract  money  from   Charles,  yet  he  was  ready  enough,  in 


WILLIAM   PENN.  317 

acquittal  of  this  debt,  to  bestow  on  Penn,  \^hom  he  loved,  a 
tract  of  land  from  which  he  himself  could  never  expect  any 
pecuniary  return.  Accordingly,  Penn  received,  in  1681,  a 
grant  by  charter  of  that  extensive  province,  named  Pennsylva- 
nia by  Charles  himself,  in  honour  of  the  admiral :  by  which 
charter  he  was  invested  with  tlie  property  in  the  soil,  with  the 
power  of  ruling  and  governing  the* same  ;  of  enacting  laws,  with 
the  advice  and  approbation  of  the  freemen  of  the  territory  as 
sembled  for  the  raising  of  money  for  public  uses ;  of  appointing 
judges,  and  administering  justice.  He  immediately  drew  up 
and  published  "some  account  of  Pennsylvania,  &c. ;"  and  then 
"  Certain  Conditions  or  Concessions,  &c.,"  to  be  agreed  on  be- 
tween himself  and  those  who  wished  to  purchase  land  in  the 
province.  These  having  been  accepted  by  many  persons,  he 
proceeded  to  frame  the  rough  sketch  of  a  constitution,  on  which 
he  proposed  to  base  the  charter  of  the  province.  The  price 
fixed  on  land  was  forty  shillings,  with  the  annual  quit-rent  of 
one  shilling,  for  one  hundred  acres :  and  it  was  provided  that  no 
one  should,  in  word  or  deed,  affront  or  w^rong  any  Indian  with- 
out incurring  the  same  penalty  as  if  the  offence  had  been  com- 
mitted against  a  felloAV-planter ;  that  strict  precautions  should 
be  taken  against  fraud  in  the  quality  of  goods  sold  to  them  ;  and 
that  all  differences  between  the  two  nations  should  be  adjudged 
by  twelve  men,  six  of  each.  And  he  declares  his  intention  "  to- 
leave  myself  and  my  successors  no  power  of  doing  mischief; 
that  the  will  of  one  man  may  not  hinder  the  good  of  a  whole 
country." 

This  constitution,  as  originally  organized  by  Penn,  consisted, 
says  Mr.  Clarkson,  "  of  a  Governor,  a  Council,  and  an  Assem- 
bly; the  two  last  of  which  were  to  be  chosen  by,  and  therefore 
to  be  the  representatives  of,  the  people.  The  Grovernor  was  to 
be  perpetual  president,  but  he  was  to  have  but  a  treble  vote. 
It  was  the  office  of  the  Council  to  prepare  and  propose  bills,  to 
see  that  the  laws  were  executed,  to  take  care  of  the  peace  and 
safety  of  the  province,  to  settle  the  situation  of  ports,  cities, 
market-towns,  roads  and  other  public  places,  to  inspect  the 
public  treasury,  to  erect  courts  of  justice,  to  institute  schools 
for  the  virtuous  education  of  youth,  and  to  reward  the  authors 
of  useful  discovery.  Not  less  than  two-thirds  of  these  were 
necessary  to  make  a  quorum,  and  the  consent  of  not  less  than 

2d2 


318  LIVES    OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANfc;. 

two-thirds  of  such  quorum  in  all  matters  of  moment.  The  As- 
sembly were  to  have  no  deliberative  power,  but  when  bills  were 
brought  to  them  from  the  governor  and  council,  were  to  pass  or 
reject  them  by  a  plain  Yes  or  No.  They  were  to  present 
sheriffs  and  justices  of  the  peace  to  the  governor ;  a  double 
number,  f^r  his  choice  of  half.  They  were  to  be  chosen  annu- 
ally, and  to  be  chosen  by  se(?ret  ballot."  This  groundwork  was 
modified  by  Penn  himself  at  later  periods,  and  especially  by 
removing  that  restriction  which  forbade  the  Assembly  to  debate, 
or  to  originate  bills  :  and  it  was  this,  substantially,  which  Burke, 
in  his  '<  Account  of  the  European  Settlements  in  America,"  de- 
scribes as  "  that  noble  charter  of  privileges,  by  which  he  made 
them  as  free  as  any  people  in  the  world,  and  which  has  since 
drawn  such  vast  numbers  of  so  many  different  persuasions  and 
Buch  various  countries  to  put  themselves  under  the  protection 
of  his  laws.  He  made  the  most  perfect  freedom,  both  religious 
and  civil,  the  basis  of  his  establishment ;  and  this  has  done 
more  towards  the  settling  of  the  province,  and  towards  the  set- 
tling of  it  in  a  strong  and  permanent  manner,  than  the  Avisest 
regulations  could  have  done  on  any  other  plan." 

In  1682,  a  number  of  settlers,  principally  Quakers,  having 
been  already  sent  out,  Penn  himself  embarked  for  Pennsylvania, 
leaving  his  wife  and  children  in  England.  On  occasion  of  this 
parting,  he  addressed  to  them  a  long  and  affectionate  letter, 
which  presents  a  very  beautiful  picture  of  his  domestic  charac- 
ter, and  affords  a  curious  insight  into  the  minute  regularity  of 
his  daily  habits.  He  landed  on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware  in 
October,  and  forthwith  summoned  an  assembly  of  the  freemen 
of  the  province,  by  whom  the  frame  of  government,  as  it  had 
been  promulgated  in  England,  was  accepted.  Penn's  principles 
did  not  suffer  him  to  consider  his  title  to  the  land  as  valid,  with- 
out the  consent  of  the  natural  owners  of  the  soil.  He  had  in- 
structed persons  to  negotiate  a  treaty  of  sale  with  the  Indian 
nations  before  his  own  departure  from  England  ;  and  one  of  his 
first  acts  was  to  hold  that  memorable  assembly,  to  which  the 
history  of  the  world  offers  none  alike,  at  which  this  bargain  was 
ratified,  and  a  strict  league  of  amity  established.  We  do  not 
find  specified  the  exact  date  of  this  meeting,  which  took  place 
under  an  enormous  elm-tree,  near  the  site  of  Philadelphia,  and 
of  which  a  ^e\\  particulars  only  have  bc^n  preserved  by  the  un 


WILLIAM  PENN.  319 

certain  record  of  tradition.  Well  and  faithfully  was  that  treaty 
of  friendship  kept  by  the  wild  denizens  of  the  woods :  "  a 
friendship,"  says  Proud,  the  historian  of  Pennsylvania,  "  which 
for  the  space  of  more  than  seventy  years  was  never  inter- 
rupted, or  so  long  as  the  Quakers  retained  power  in  the  govern- 
ment." 

Penn  remained  in  America  until  the  middle  of  1684.  Dur- 
ing this  time  much  was  done  towards  bringing  the  colony  into 
prosperity  and  order.  Twenty  townships  were  established,  con- 
taining upwards  of  seven  thousand  Europeans ;  magistrates 
Avere  appointed ;  representatives,  as  prescribed  by  the  constitu- 
tion, were  chosen,  and  the  necessary  public  business  transacted.. 
In  1683,  Penn  undertook  a  journey  of  discovery  into  the  inte- 
rior ;  and  he  has  given  an  interesting  account  of  the  country  in 
its  wild  state,  in  a  letter  written  home  to  the  Society  of  Free 
Traders  in  Pennsylvania.  He  held  frequent  conferences  with 
the  Indians,  and  contracted  treaties  of  friendship  with  nineteen 
distinct  tribes.  His  reasons  for  returning  to  England  appear 
to  have  been  twofold ;  partly  the  desire  to  settle  a  dispute  be- 
tween himself  and  Lord  Baltimore,  concerning  the  boundary 
of  their  provinces,  but  chiefly  the  hope  of  being  able,  by  his 
personal  influence,  to  lighten  the  sufferings  and  ameliorate  the 
treatment  of  the  Quakers  in  England.  He  reached  England  in 
October,  1684.  Charles  II.  died  in  February,  1685.  Btit  this 
was  rather  favourable  to  Penn's  credit  at  court ;  for  besides  that 
James  appears  to  have  felt  a  sincere  regard  for  him,  he  required 
for  his  own  church  that  toleration  Avhich  Penn  wished  to  see 
extended  to  all  alike.  This  credit  at  court  led  to  the  renewal 
of  an  old  and  assuredly  most  groundless  report,  that  Penn  was 
at  heart  a  Papist — nay,  that  he  was  in  priest's  orders,  and  a 
Jesuit :  a  report  which  gave  him  much  uneasiness,  and  which 
he  took  much  pains  in  public  and  in  private  to  contradict.  The 
same  credit,  and  the  natural  and  laudable  affection  and  grati- 
tude towards  the  Stuart  family,  which  he  never  dissembled, 
caused  much  trouble  to  him  after  the  Revolution.  He  was  con- 
tinually suspected  of  plotting  to  restore  the  exiled  dynasty; 
was  four  times  arrested,  and  as  often  discharged  in  the  total 
absence  of  all  evidence  ao-ainst  him.  Durino^  the  vears  1691,. 
1692,  and  part  of  1693,  he  remained  in  London,  living,  to  avoid 
offence,  in  great  seclusion  :  in  the  latter  year  he  was  heard  in 


320  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

his  own  defence  before  the  king  and  council,  and  informed  that 
he  need  apprehend  no  molestation  or  injury. 

The  affairs  of  Pennsylvania  fell  into  some  confusion  during 
Penn's  long  absence.  Even  in  the  peaceable  sect  of  Quakers 
there  were  ambitious,  bustling  and  selfish  men ;  and  Penn  was 
not  satisfied  with  the  conduct  either  of  the  representative  As- 
sembly, or  of  those  to  whom  he  had  delegated  his  own  powers. 
He  changed  the  latter  two  or  three  times,  without  effecting  the 
restoration  of  harmony:  and  these  troubles  gave  a  pretext  for 
depriving  him  of  his  powers  as  governor,  in  1693.  The  real 
cause  was  probably  the  suspicion  entertained  of  his  treasonable 
correspondence  with  James  II.  But  he  was  reinstated  in  Au- 
gust, 1694,  by  a  royal  order,  in  which  it  was  complimentarily 
expressed  that  the  disorders  complained  of  were  produced  en- 
tirely by  his  absence.  Anxious  as  he  was  to  return,  he  did  not 
find  an  opportunity  till  1699 :  the  interval  was  chiefly  employed 
in  religious  travel  through  England  and  Ireland,  and  in  the 
labour  of  controversial  writing,  from  which  he  seldom  had  a 
long  respite.  His  course  as  a  philanthropist  on  his  return  to 
America  is  honourably  marked  by  an  endeavour  to  ameliorate 
the  condition  of  Negro  slaves.  The  society  of  Quakers  in  Penn- 
sylvania had  already  come  to  a  resolution,  that  the  buying,  sell- 
ing, and  holding  men  in  slavery  was  inconsistent  with  the  tenets 
of  the  Christian  religion :  and  following  up  this  honourable  de- 
•claration,  Penn  had  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  for  them  free  ad- 
mission into  the  regular  meetings  for  religious  worship,  and  in 
procuring  that  other  meetings  should  be  holden  for  their  parti- 
cular benefit.  The  Quakers  therefore  merit  our  respect  as  the 
earliest,  as  well  as  some  of  the  most  zealous  emancipators.  Mr. 
Chirkson  says,  "  When  Penn  procured  the  insertion  of  this 
resolution  m  the  Monthly  Meeting  book  of  Philadelphia,  he 
sealed  as  assuredly  and  effectually  the  abolition  of  the  slave 
trade,  and  the  emancipation  of  the  negroes  within  his  own  pro- 
vince, as  when  he  procured  the  insertion  of  the  minute  relating 
to  the  Indians  in  the  same  book,  he  sealed  the  civilization  of  the 
latter  ;  for,  from  the  time  the  subject  became  incorporated  into 
the  discipline  of  the  Quakers,  they  never  lost  sight  of  it.  Se- 
veral of  them  began  to  refuse  to  purchase  negroes  at  all ;  and 
others  to  emancipate  those  w^hich  they  had  in  their  possession, 
f»,nd  this  of  their  own   accord,  and  purely  from  the  motives  of 


WILLIAM   PENN.  321 

religion ;  till  at  length  it  became  a  law  ot  the  society  that  no 
member  could  be  concerned,  directly  or  indirectly,  either  in 
buying  and  selling,  or  in  holding  them  in  bondage ;  and  this 
law  was  carried  so  completely  into  effect,  that  in  the  year  1780, 
dispersed  as  the  society  was  over  a  vast  tract  of  country,  there 
was  not  a  single  negro  as  a  slave  in  the  possession  of  an  ac- 
knowledged Quaker.  This  example,  soon  after  it  had  begun, 
was  followed  by  others  of  other  religious  denominations." 

In  labouring  to  secure  kind  treatment,  to  raise  the  character, 
and  to  promote  the  welfare  of  the  Indians,  Penn  was  active 
and  constant,  during  this  visit  to  America,  as  before.  The 
legislative  measures  which  took  place  while  he  remained,  and 
the  bickerings  between  the  Assembly  and  himself,  we  pass  over, 
as  belonging  rather  to  a  history  of  Pennsylvania,  than  to  the 
biography  of  its  founder.  For  the  same  reason  we  omit  the 
charges  preferred  against  him  by  Dr.  Franklin.  The  union  in 
one  person  of  the  rights  belonging  both  to  a  governor  and  a 
proprietor,  no  doubt  is  open  to  objection ;  but  this  cannot  be 
urged  as  a  fault  upon  Penn ;  and  we  believe  that  it  would  be 
difficult  to  name  any  person  who  has  used  power  and  privilege 
with  more  disinterested  views.  That  he  was  indifferent  to  his 
powers,  or  his  emoluments,  is  not  to  be  supposed,  and  ought  not 
to  have  been  expected.  He  spent  large  sums,  he  bestowed  much 
pains  upon  the  colony :  and  he  felt  and  stated  it  to  be  a  great 
grievance,  that,  whereas  a  provision  was  voted  to  the  royal 
governor  during  the  period  of  his  own  suspension,  not  so  much 
as  a  table  was  kept  for  himself;  and  that  instead  of  contribut- 
ing towards  his  expenses,  even  the  trivial  quit-rents  which  he 
had  reserved  remained  unpaid  :  nay,  it  was  sought  by  the  As- 
sembly, against  all  justice,  to  divert  them  from  him,  towards  the 
support  of  the  government.  It  is  to  be  recollected  that  Frank- 
lin wrote  for  a  political  object,  to  overthrow  the  privileges  which 
Penn's  heirs  enjoyed. 

The  governor  returned  to  England  in  1701,  to  oppose  a 
scheme  agitated  in  parliament  for  abolishing  the  proprietary 
governments  and  placing  the  colonies  immediately  under  royal 
control :  the  bill,  however,  was  dropped  before  he  arrived.  He 
enjoyed  Anne's  favour,  as  he  had  that  of  her  father  and  uncle, 
and  resided  much  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  court,  at  Ken- 
sington and  Koightsbridge.  In  his  religious  labours  he  conti- 
41 


822  LIVES   OP   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

nued  constant,  as  heretofore.  He  was  much  harassed  by  a  law- 
suit, the  result  of  too  much  confidence  in  a  dishonest  steward : 
which  being  decided  against  him,  he  was  obliged  for  a  time  to 
reside  within  the  rules  of  the  Fleet  Prison.  This,  and  the  ex- 
penses in  which  he  had  been  involved  by  Pennsylvania,  reduced 
him  to  distress,  and  in  1T09  he  mortgaged  the  province  for 
£6,600.  In  1712,  he  agreed  to  sell  his  rights  to  the  govern- 
ment for  £12,000,  but  was  rendered  unable  to  complete  the 
transaction  by  three  apoplectic  fits,  which  followed  each  other 
in  quick  succession.  He  survived  however  in  a  tranquil  and 
happy  state,  though  with  his  bodily  and  mental  vigour  much 
broken,  until  July  30,  1718,  on  which  day  he  died  at  his  seat 
at  Rushcomb,  in  Berkshire,  where  he  had  resided  for  some 
years. 

His  first  wife  died  in  1693.  He  married  a  second  time  in 
1696  ;  and  left  a  family  of  children  by  both  wives,  to  whom  he 
bequeathed  his  landed  property  in  Europe  and  America.  His 
rights  of  government  he  left  in  trust  to  the  Earls  of  Oxford  and 
Powlett,  to  be  disposed  of;  but  no  sale  being  ever  made,  the 
government,  with  the  title  of  proprietaries,  devolved  on  the  sur- 
viving sons  of  the  second  family. 

Penn's  numerous  works  were  collected,  and  a  life  prefixed  to 
them,  in  1726.  Select  editions  of  them  have  been  since  pub- 
lished. Mr.  Clarkson's  "Life,"  Proud's  «<  History  of  Pennsyl- 
vania," and  Franklin's  "  Historical  Review,  &c.,  of  Pennsylva- 
nia," for  a  view  of  the  exceptions  which  have  been  taken  to 
Penn's  character  as  a  statesman,  may  be  advantageously  con- 
Bulted. 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 


323 


SAMUEL   JOHNSON. 


AMUEL  JOHNSON  was  born  September 
18,  1709,  in  the  city  of  Lichfield,  where  his 
father,  a  man  well  respected  for  sense  and 
learning,  carried  on  the  trade  of  a  bookseller, 
and  realized  an  independence,  which  he  after 
wards  lost  by  an  unsuccessful  speculation. 
His  mother  also  possessed  a  strong  under- 
standing. From  these  parents  Johnson  de- 
rived a  powerful  body  and  a  mind  of  uncommon 
force  and  compass.  Unfortunately  both  mind 
Lnd  body  were  tainted  by  disease :  the  former,  by 
melancholy,  of  which  he  said  that  it  had  "  made 
n  mad  all  his  life — at  least  not  sober;"  the  latter, 
by  that  scrofulous  disorder  called  the  king's  evil,  for 
which,  in  compliance  with  a  popular  superstition,  re- 
commended by  the  Jacobite  principles  of  his  family, 
he  was  touched  by  Queen  Anne.  By  this  disease  he  lost  the 
sight  of  one  eye,  and  the  other  was  considerably  injured — a 
calamity  which  combined  with  constitutional  indolence  to  pre- 
vent his  joining  in  the  active  sports  of  his  school-fellows. 
Tardy  in  the  performance  of  his  appointed  tasks,  he  mastered 
them  with  rapidity  at  last,  and  he  early  displayed  great  fond- 
ness for  miscellaneous  reading,  and  a  remarkably  retentive 
memory.  After  passing  through  several  country  schools,  and 
spending  near  two  years  in  a  sort  of  busy  idleness  at  home,  he 
went  to  Pembroke  College,  Oxford,  about  the  age  of  sixteen. 
There  he  made  himself  more  remarkable  by  wit  and  humour, 
and  negligence  of  college  discipline,  than  by  his  labours  for 
university  distinction.  His  translation  of  Pope's  Messiah  into 
Latin  hexameters  was  the  only  exercise  on  which  he  bestowed 
much  pains,  or  by  which  he  obtained  much  credit.  But  his 
high  spirits,  unless  the  recollections  of  his  earlier  years  were 


324  LIVES    OF    EMINENT    CIIRTSTL-^NS. 

tinctured  by.  his  habitual  despondency,  were  but  the  cloak  of  a 
troubled  mind.  "Ah!  sir,"  he  said  to  Boswell,  '<  I  was  mad 
and  violent.  It  was  bitterness  which  they  mistook  for  frolic. 
I  was  miserably  poor,  and  I  thought  to  fight  my  way  by  my 
literature  and  my  wit ;  so  I  disregarded  all  power  and  all  au- 
thority." His  poverty,  during  this  period,  was  indeed  ex- 
treme ;  and  the  scanty  remittances  by  which  he  was  supported, 
in  much  humiliation  and  inconvenience,  were  altogether  stopped 
at  last  by  his  father's  insolvency.  He  had  the  mortification  to 
be  compelled  to  quit  Oxford  in  the  autumn  of  1731,  after  three 
years'  residence,  without  taking  a  degree ;  and  his  father's 
death,  in  the  December  following,  threw  him  on  the  world  Avith 
twenty  pounds  in  his  pocket. 

He  first  attempted  to  gain  a  livelihood  in  the  capacity  of 
usher  to  a  school  at  Market-Bosworth,  in  Leicestershire.  For 
that  laborious  and  dreary  task,  he  was  eminently  unfit,  except 
by  talent  and  learning,  and  he  soon  quitted  a  situation  which 
he  ever  remembered  with  a  degree  of  aversion  amounting  to 
horror.  After  his  marriage,  he  tried  the  experiment  of  keeping 
a  boarding-house  near  Lichfield,  as  principal,  with  little  better 
success.  From  Bosworth  he  went  to  Birmingham,  in  1733, 
where  he  composed  his  first  work,  a  translation  of  the  Jesuit 
Lobo's  Voyage  to  Abyssinia,  He  gained  several  kind  and  use- 
ful acquaintance  in  the  latter  town,  among  Avhom  was  Mr. 
Porter,  a  mercer,  whose  widow  he  married  in  1735.  She  was 
double  his  age,  and  possessed  neither  beauty,  fortune,  nor  at- 
tractive manners,  yet  she  inspired  him  with  an  affection  which 
endured,  unchilled  by  the  trials  of  poverty,  unchanged  by  her 
death,  even  to  the  end  of  his  own  life,  as  his  private  records 
fully  testify.     She  died  in  1752. 

In  March,  1737,  Johnson  set  out  for  the  metropolis,  in  hopes 
of  mending  his  fortunes,  as  a  man  of  letters,  and  especially  of 
bringing  on  the  stage  his  tragedy  of  Irene.  It  was  long  be- 
fore his  desires  were  gratified  in  either  respect.  Irene  was  not 
performed  till  1749,  when  his  friend  and  former  pupil,  Garrick, 
had  the  management  of  Drury-Lane.  Garrick's  zeal  carried  it 
through  nine  nights,  so  that  the  author,  in  addition  to  one  hun- 
dred pounds  from  Dodsley  for  the  copyright,  had  the  profit  of 
three  nights'  performance,  according  to  the  mode  of  payment 
th^n  in  use.     The  play,  however,  though  bearing  the  stamp  of 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  326 

a  vigorous  and  elevated  mind,  and  by  no  means  wanting  in 
poetical  merit,  was  unfit  for  acting,  through  its  want  of  pathos 
and  dramatic  eifect ;  and  Johnson,  perhaps,  perceived  his  defi- 
ciency in  these  qualities,  for  he  never  again  wrote  for  the  stage. 
Garrick  said  of  his  friend  that  he  had  neither  the  faculty  to 
produce,  nor  the  sensibility  to  receive  the  impressions  of  tra- 
gedy, and  his  annotations  upon  Shakspeare  confirm  this  judg- 
ment. 

His  first  employment,  after  his  arrival  in  London,  was  as  a 
frequent  contributor  to  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  from  which, 
during  some  years,  he  derived  his  chief  support.  This  was  a 
period  of  labour,  poverty,  and  often  of  urgent  want.  Some- 
times without  a  lodging,  sometimes  without  a  dinner,  he  became 
acquainted  with  the  darker  pha.ses  of  a  London  life  ;  and, 
among  other  singular  characters,  a  similarity  of  fortunes  made 
him  acquainted  with  the  notorious  Richard  Savage,  whom  he 
regarded  with  afi"ection,  and  whose  life  is  one  of  the  most  pow- 
erful productions  of  Johnson's  pen. 

In  the  thoughts  suggested,  and  the  knowledge  taught,  b}^  this 
rough  collision  with  the  world,  we  may  conjecture  his  imitation 
of  the  third  satire  of  Juvenal,  entitled  London,  to  have  origi- 
nated. To  the  majority  of  the  nation,  it  was  recommended  by 
its  strong  invectives  against  the  then  unpopular  ministry  of  Sir 
Robert  Walpole,  as  well  as  by  the  energy  of  thought  and  style, 
the  knowledge  of  his  subject,  and  the  lively  painting  in  which 
it  abounds.  It  reached  a  second  edition  in  the  course  of  a 
week,  and  Boswell  tells  us,  on  contemporary  authority,  that 
"  the  first  buz  of  the  literary  circles  was,  '  here  is  an  unknown 
poet,  greater  even  than  Pope.'  "  Yet  this  admired  poem  pro- 
duced only  ten  guineas  to  its  author,  and  appears  to  have  done 
nothing  towards  improving  his  prospects,  or  giving  a  commer- 
cial value  to  his  name.  His  chief  employment  was  still  fur- 
nished by  the  Gentleman's  Magazine;  and.  in  November,  1740, 
he  undertook  to  report,  or  rather  to  write,  the  parliamentary 
debates  for  that  publication.  At  that  time  the  privileges  of 
Parliament  were  very  strictly  interpreted,  and  the  avowed  pub- 
lication of  debates  would  have  been  rigorously  suppressed. 
Such  a  summary,  however,  as  could  bo  preserved  in  the  memory 
was  earned  away  by  persons  employed  for  the  purpose,  and 
the  task  which  Johnson   undertook  was  to  expand  and  adorn 

2  E 


326  LIVES    OF    EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

their  imperfect  hints  from  the  stores  of  his  own  eloquence.  In 
doing  which,  he  took  care,  as  he  afterwards  acknowledged,  that 
"the  Whig  dogs  should  not  have  the  best  of  it.*'  The  speeches, 
of  course,  were  referred  to  fictitious  names,  and  were  published 
under  the  title,  Debates  of  the  Senate  of  Lilliput ;  but,  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1743,  Johnson,  on  finding  that  they  were  esteemed  ge- 
nuine, desisted  from  the  employment,  declaring  that  he  would 
not  be  accessary  to  the  propagatiop  of  falsehood.  So  scrupu- 
lous was  he  on  this  score,  that  forty  years  after,  not  long  be- 
fore his  death,  he  expressed  his  regret  at  having  been  the  author 
of  fictions  that  had  passed  for  realities. 

For  a  detailed  account  of  this  early  portion  of  Johnson's 
literary  history,  we  refer  the  reader  to  Boswell's  Life,  and  the 
list  of  Johnson's  works  thereto  prefixed,  and  pass  on  at  once 
to  those  greater  performances  to  which  he  owes  his  eminent 
rank  among  British  writers.  Of  these  the  earliest  and  most 
celebrated  is  his  Dictionary  of  the  English  Language.  How 
long  the  plan  of  this  work  had  been  meditated,  before  it  was 
actually  commenced,  is  uncertain.  He  told  Boswell  that  his 
knowledge  of  our  language  was  not  the  effect  of  particular 
study,  but  had  grown  up  insensibly  in  his  mind.  That  he  un- 
derrated the  time  and  labour  requisite  for  such  a  work,  is  evi- 
dent from  his  promising  in  his  prospectus,  issued  in  1747,  to 
complete  it  in  three  years.  He,  probably,  had  also  underrated 
the  needful  knowledge  and  amount  of  preparatory  study.  In 
fact  it  was  not  published  till  1755.  He  received  for  it  1575Z., 
of  which,  however,  a  very  considerable  portion  was  spent  in 
expenses.  The  prospectus  was  addressed  to  Lord  Chesterfield, 
who  expressed  himself  warmly  in  favour  of  the  design,  and 
from  that  time  forward  treated  the  author  with  neglect  until 
the  time  of  publication  drew  nigh,  when  he  again  assumed  the 
character  of  a  patron.  Fired  at  this,  Johnson  repudiated  his 
assistance  in  a  dignified  but  sarcastic  letter,  which  is  printed 
by  Boswell.  The  transaction  merits  notice,  for  it  is  character- 
istic of  Johnson's  independent  spirit,  and  excited  at  the  time 
much  curiosity  and  comment. 

The  Dictionary  was  justly  esteemed  a  wonderful  work.  It 
established  at  once  the  author's  reputation  among  his  contem- 
poraries, and  was  long  regarded  as  the  supreme  standard  by 
which  disputed  points  in  the  English  language  were  to  be  tried 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  827 

Johnson's  chief  qualification  for  the  task  lay  in  the  accuracy 
of  his  definitions  and  the  extent  of  his  various  and  well-remem- 
bered reading.  His  chief  disqualification  lay  in  his  ignorance 
of  the  cognate  Teutonic  languages,  the  stock  from  which  the 
bulk  and  strength  of  our  own  is  derived  ;  and,  in  propor- 
tion as  the  history  and  philosophy  of  the  English  language 
have  been  more  extensively  studied,  has  the  need  of  a  more 
learned  and  philosophical  work  of  reference  been  felt.  The 
verbose  style  of  his  definitions  is  rather  a  fruitful  theme  of  ridi- 
cule than  an  important  fault.  Shortly,  before  its  publication, 
he  received  from  the  University  of  Oxford,  which  through  life 
he  regarded  with  great  affection  and  veneration,  the  honorary 
degree  of  M.  A.,  a  mark  of  respect  by  which  he  was  highly 
gratified. 

That  his  labour  in  composing  this  work  was  not  severe,  may 
be  inferred  from  the  variety  of  literary  employments  in  which, 
during  its  progress,  he  found  time  and  inclination  to  engage, 
among  which  we  may  select  for  mention  the  imitation  of  Juve- 
nal's tenth  satire,  entitled  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes,  and  the 
periodical  paper  called  the  Rambler,  which  was  published  twice 
a  week,  from  March  20,  1750,  to  March  17,  1752.  Of  the 
whole  series,  according  to  Boswell,  only  four  papers,  and  a  part 
of  a  fifth,  were  contributed  by  other  pens  ;  and  it  is  remarka- 
ble, considering  the  general  gravity  of  the  subjects  and  the 
elaboration  of  the  style,  that  most  of  them  were  struck  off  at 
a  heat,  when  constitutional  indolence  could  procrastinate  no 
longer,  without  even  being  read  over  before  they  were  printed. 
The  circulation  of  the  work  was  small ;  for  its  merits,  which 
lie  chiefly  in  moral  instruction  and  literary  criticism,  were  of 
too  grave  a  cast  to  ensure  favour  ;  the  lighter  parts,  and  the 
attempts  at  humour,  are  the  least  successful.  But  its  popu- 
larity increased  as  the  author's  fame  rose,  and  fashion  recom- 
mended his  grandiloquent  style,  and  before  his  death  it  went 
through  numerous  editions  in  a  collected  form. 

In  1756,  he  issued  proposals  for  an  edition  of  Shakspeare,  a 
scheme  which  he  had  contemplated  as  long  back  as  1745,  when 
he  published  Miscellaneous  Observations  on  the  Tragedy  of  Mac- 
beth, He  promised  to  complete  it  before  Christmas,  1757  ; 
but  it  did  not  appear  until  October,  1765.  Imperfectly  versed 
in  the  antiquities,  literature,  and  language  of  the  Elizabethan 


328  LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

era,  the  source  from  which  almost  all  valuable  comment  on  the 
early  dramatists  has  been  drawn,  he  has  done  little  to  elucidate 
difficulties  or  correct  errors.  His  Preface  has  been  esteemed 
among  the  most  valuable  of  his  critical  essays.  But  the  peru- 
sal of  his  notes,  and  especially  of  his  summary  criticisms  on 
the  several  plays,  will  confirm  Garrick's  judgment  as  to  his 
sensibility,  and  show  that  he  wanted  that  delicate  perception 
and  deep  knowledge  of  the  workings  of  the  passions  which 
were  necessary  to  the '  adequate  fulfilment  of  his  most  difficilt 
task. 

From  April  15,  1758,  to  April  5,  1760,  Johnson  wrote  a 
second  periodical  paper,  called  the  Idler.  Twelve  only,  out  of 
one  hundred  and  three  essays,  were  contributed  by  his  friends ; 
the  rest  were  generally  written  with  as  much  haste,  and  are  of 
slighter  texture,  than  those  of  the  Rambler.  Rasselas,  Prince 
of  Abyssinia,  he  wrote  in  the  beginning  of  1759,  to  defray  the 
expenses  of  his  mother's  funeral,  and  pay  some  trifling  debts 
which  she  had  left.  He  told  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  that  it  was 
composed  in  the  evenings  of  one  week,  and  sent  to  the  press  in 
portions  as  it  was  written.  This  anecdote  aifords  a  good  in- 
stance of  Johnson's  facility  and  power,  when  an  adequate  sti- 
mulus was  applied.  From  the  rich  imagery,  and  the  varied, 
powerful  strain  of  reflection  which  pervade  it,  and  the  elabo- 
rated pomp  of  its  style,  it  would  assuredly  be  taken  for  the 
product  of  mature  consideration,  labour,  and  frequent  revision. 
For  this  he  received  one  hundred  pounds,  and  twenty-five 
pounds  more  at  a  second  edition.  It  has  been  translated  into 
most  European  languages. 

In  1762,  Johnson  accepted  a  pension  of  300?.,  for  which  he 
underwent  considerable  obloquy.  This  was  entirely  unde- 
served, though  in  some  sort  he  had  brought  it  on  himself  by 
indulging  his  satirical  bias  and  political  predilections  in  a  way- 
ward definition  of  the  words  pension  and  pensioner^  in  his  Dic- 
tionary, where  other  instances  occur  of  his  indulging  the  hu- 
mour of  the  moment,  whether  it  prompted  him  to  spleen  or 
merriment.  Why  he  should  not  have  accepted  the  pension,  no 
sound  reason  can  be  given.  His  elacobitical  predilections,  never 
probably  so  strong  as  he  used  to  represent  them  in  the  heat  of 
argument,  were  lost,  like  those  of  others,  in  the  hopelessness 
of  the  cause,  and  his  Toryism  naturally  led  him  to  transfer  hi- 


SAMUEL    JOHNSON.  329 

full  respect  and  allegiance  to  the  reigning  king,  who  never  was 
suspected  of  an  undue  bias  towards  Whigism.  The  sum  bestowed 
was  no  more  than  an  honourable  testimony  to  his  literary  emi- 
nence and  a  comfortable  provision  for  his  declining  age  ;  and, 
as  far  as  it  is  possible  to  form  an  opinion  on  such  matters,  the 
gift  was  unstained  by  any  compact,  expressed  or  understood, 
for  political  support. 

Among  the  more  important  events  of  Johnson's  life,  we  are 
bound  to  mention  his  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Boswell.  which 
commenced  in  1763,  not  only  because  it  formed  an  important 
article  among  the  pleasures  of  the  philosopher's  declining  ^^ears, 
but  because  it  led  to  the  composition  and  publication  of  the 
most  lively  and  vivid  picture  ever  given  by  one  man  of  an- 
other, the  Life  of  Johnson.  By  Boswell,  Johnson  was  induced, 
in  compliance  with  a  wish  that  he  had  long  before  entertained, 
to  undertake  a  journey  to  the  Scottish  Highlands  and  the  Heb- 
rides ;  and  it  is  remarkable  that  the  first  English  book  of  tra- 
vels (as  we  believe)  into  what,  to  the  English,  was  then  almost 
a  terra  incognita,  should  have  been  composed  by^a  man  so  care- 
less of  natural  beauty,  and  so  little  disposed  to  sacrifice  his 
ease  and  habits  to  the  cravings  of  curiosity,  as  Johnson.  His 
desire  to  visit  that  country  seems  to  have  arisen  rather  from  a 
wish  to  study  society  in  a  simple  form  than  from  any  taste  for 
the  wild  beauties  of  those  northern  regions,  of  which  he  saw  not 
the  most  favourable  specimen,  and  has  given  not  a  flattering 
account.  His  Journey  to  the  Western  Islands  will  be  read  with 
pleasure,  abounding  in  acute  observation,  passages  of  lofty  elo- 
quence and  grateful  acknowledgment  of  the  kindness  and  hos- 
pitality which  he  received — kindness  which  his  snappish  railings 
against  the  Scotch  in  general  never  led  him  to  undervalue  or 
forget.  His  companion  and  disciple's  account  of  their  expedi- 
tion will,  however,  be  read  with  more  amusement,  from  present- 
ing such  vivid  pictures  of  the  author  himself,  as  well  as  of  the 
subject  which  he  painted,  and  of  the  varied  characters  to  Avhich 
they  were  introduced,  and  scenes  in  which  they  intermingled. 
We  may  here  add  that  Johnson  was  a  resolute  unbeliever  in  the 
authenticity  of  Macpherson's  Ossian,  against  which,  in  his  book, 
he  pronounced  a  decided  judgment.  He  thus  gave  considera- 
ble offence  to  national  vanity.  To  the  claims  of  second-sight 
he  was  more  favourable.  Throughout  life  he  was  influenced  by 
42  2e2 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

a  belief,  not  only  in  the  possibility,  but  in  the  occasional  exer- 
tion of  supernatural  agencies  beyond  the  regular  operation  of 
the  laws  of  nature.  # 

In  1775,  Johnson  received  frojg  the  University  of  Oxford 
the  honorary  degree  of  D.  0.  L.  '^The  same  degree  had  been 
conferred  on  him  some  time  before  by  the  University  of  Dublin  , 
but  he  did  not  then  assume  the  title  of  Doctor.  His  only  sub- 
sequent work  which  requires  notice  is  the  Lives  of  the  English 
Poets,  written  for  a  collective  edition  of  them,  which  the  book- 
sellers were  about  to  publish.  To  the  selection  of  the  authors 
praise  cannot  be  given.  Many  ornaments  to  British  literature  are 
omitted,  and  many  obscure  persons  have  found  a  place  in  the 
collection ;  this,  however,  probably  was  not  Johnson's  fault. 
The  publication  began  in  1779,  and  was  not  completed  till 
1781.  The  lives  have  gone  through  many  editions  by  them- 
selves. Though  strongly  coloured  by  personal  and  political 
predilections,  they  contain  much  sound  criticism,  and  form  a 
valuable  article  in  British  biography. 

Many  incidents  connected  with  Johnson's  life,  his  places  of 
residence,  his  'domestication  in  Mr.  Thrale's  family,  his  connec- 
tion with  The  Club,  and  the  like,  have  been  made  generally 
known  by  the  amusing  works  of  Boswell,  Mrs.  Piozzi,  and 
others.  Perhaps  public  curiosity  was  never  so  strongly  directed 
towards  the  person,  habits,  and  conversation  of  any  man 
known  only  as  an  author,  and  certainly  it  never  has  been  so 
amply  gratified.  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson  is  unique  in  its 
kind. 

His  powers  of  conversation  were  very  great,  and  not  only  ' 
commanded  the  admiration  and  deference  of  his  contempora- 
ries, but  have  contributed  in  a  principal  degree  to  the  uphold- 
ing of  his  traditionary  fame.  They  were  deformed  by  an  as- 
sumption of  superiority,  and  an  intolerance  of  contradiction  or 
opposition,  which  often  betrayed  him  into  offensive  rudeness. 
Yet  his  temper  was  at  bottom  affectionate  and  humane,  hig 
attachments  strong,  and  his  charity  only  bounded,  and  scarcely 
bounded,  by  his  means. 

The  latter  years  of  Dr.  Johnson's  life  were  overshadowed  by 
much  gloom.  Many  of  his  old  and  most  valued  friends  sank  into 
the  grave  before  him.  His  bodily  frame  was  much  shattered  by 
disease,  his  spirits  became  more  liable  to  depression,  and  his 


SAMUEL   JOHNSON.  331 

sincere  and  ardent  piety  was  too  deeply  tinged  by  constitutional 
despondency  to  afford  him  steady  comf'^rt  and  support  under 
his  sufferings.  He  was  struck  by  palsy  in  1783,  but  recovered 
the  use  both  of  his  bodily  and  mental  faculties.  A  compli- 
cation of  asthma  and  dropsy  put  an  end  to  his  existence,  De- 
cember 13,  1785.  During  his  illness,  his  anxiety  for  a  pro- 
tracted life  was  painfully  intense ;  but  his  last  hours  are 
described  by  the  bystanders  to  have  been  calm,  happy,  and 
confident.  He  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey.  A  statue 
to  his  memory  is  erected  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral. 


832 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


NICHOLAS  LOUIS  ZINZENDORF. 


,OUNT  ZmZENDORF,  the  father  of  the  later 
Moravians,  was  born  at  Dresden,  in  Saxony^ 
May  26,  1700.  His  father,  who  was  state- 
minister  to  the  elector,  died  when  Nicholas 
was  young  ;  and  his  education  devolved  upon 
his  grandmother,  the  learned  and  pious  Ma- 
dame Von  Gersdorf.  As  she  maintained  a 
correspondence  with  many  religious  men,  and 
favoured  to  a  considerable  degree  the  opinions  of 
the  Pietists,  her  house  was  the  resort  of  those  who 
(  delighted  in  religious  conversation  and  instruction. 
At  many  of  their  meetings,  Zinzendorf  was  present ; 
he  listened  with  delight  to  expositions  of  the  pure 
principles  of  the  gospel  and  narratives  of  pious  men ; 
and  with  the  natural  ardour  of  youth,  he  permitted  his 
imagination  to  dwell  upon  what  he  almost,  daily  heard, 
until  his  mind  bordered  upon  a  state  of  fanaticism.  Sometimes 
he  threw  out  of  his  window  little  letters  addressed  to  the  Saviour, 
in  the  hope  that  the  Divine  being  would  actually  find  them. 
When,  at  the  age  often  years,  he  entered  the  academy  of  Halle, 
these  religious  impressions,  besides  strengthening,  had  become 
so  tinged  with  mysticism,  that  he  instituted  the  secret,  religious 
order  of  the  Mustard  Seed,  and  held  among  his  fellow-pupils 
weekly  religious  meetings.  His  grandmother  appears  to  have 
regarded  this  disposition  with  pleasure ;  but  his  uncle  and 
guardian,  desiring  to  prepare  his  nephew  for  business,  removed 
him  from  Halle  to  the  University  of  Wittenberg.  The  change 
produced  no  effect  upon  the  young  man's  mind.  He  still  ad- 
hered to  his  faith  in  the  Pietists ;  and  at  the  second  centennial 
anniversary  of  the  Reformation,  in  1717,  he  lamented  in  the 
solitude  of  his  room  the  degeneracy  of  the  times.  Without 
guidance  from  any  one,  or  even  the  assistance  of  books,  he  com- 


NICHOLAS   LOUIS   ZINZENDORF.  333 

menced  at  this  time  the  study  of  theology,  with  the  design  of 
entering  upon  the  minstry. 

In  1719,  Zinzendorf  abandoned  the  university,  and  set  out 
on  the  tour  through  Holland  and  France,  which  he  has  described 
in  his  "Pilgrimage  of  Atticus  through  the  World."  Most  of 
his  time  during  this  journey  appears  to  have  been  occupied  in 
conversations  with  different  divines  on  the  subject  of  religion. 
In  1721,  after  his  return,  he  was  appointed  to  ofSce  under  the 
government  of  Dresden.  He  retained  it  six  years,  devoting  his 
time  principally  to  the  study  of  theology.  In  the  ^^ear  follow- 
ing this  appointment,  he  married  the  young  Countess  of  Reuss 
Von  Ebersdorf. 

About  this  time,  a  considerable  body  of  emigrant  Moravians, 
driven  by  persecution  from  their  own  country,  took  refuge  in 
Germany.  The  religious  feelings  of  Zinzendorf  naturally  in- 
clined him  to  favour  these  people ;  and  he  even  appears  to  have 
previously  entertained  much  esteem  for  their  creed  and  charac- 
ter. Moved  by  their  destitution,  he  gave  them  permission  to 
settle  on  his  estate  of  Berthelsdorf  in  Upper  Lusatia,  a  place 
which  they  afterwards  named  Herrnhut,  or  "  protection  of  the 
Lord."  At  first,  the  settlers  w^ere  few;  but  as  persecution 
increased  in  other  countries,  their  number  enlarged  by  acces- 
sions from  various  denominations  besides  their  own.  Zinzendorf' 
and  a  Lutheran  minister  named  Rothe  laboured  to  instruct 
them  and  their  children.  In  a  short  time,  however,  material 
difi'erences  of  opinion  concerning  forms  and  doctrine  manifested 
themselves,  thus  demonstrating  the  propriety  of  a  general  agree- 
ment concerning  faith  and  rules  of  conduct.  Accordingly,  Zin- 
zendorf proposed  articles  of  union,  whose  object  was  to  form  a 
Christian  society  on  principles  similar  to  those  which  existed  in 
the  apostolic  age.  In  these  articles,  the  distinctive  doctrines 
of  the  different  Protestant  denominations  Avere  omitted ;  the 
fundamental  truths  of  Scripture,  upon  which  they  all  agreed, 
were  adopted  as  articles  of  faith  ;  and  a  social  compact  and  dis- 
cipline, similar  to  that  of  the  apostolic  family,  formed  the  basis 
of  union.  After  mature  consideration,  these  articles  were 
adopted  under  the  title  of  the  brotherly  agreement ;  and  this 
adoption,  wdiich  occurred  in  1727,  was  the  ground  of  the  modern 
society  of  United  Brethren.  The  most  \mportant  principles  of 
this  denomination  are,  that  the  Scriptures  are  the  only  rule  of 


334  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHUISTIA^S. 

faith ;  that  the  Holy  Spu'it  is  given  to  every  behever  to  guide 
him  into  all  truth ;  that  theological  discussions  should  be  avoided, 
while  practical  experience  forms  the  basis  of  individual  piety ; 
that  the  teachings,  life,  and  example  of  Christ,  as  exhibited  by 
the  plain  words  of  Scripture,  are  the  sure  rule  of  faith ;  that 
temporal  aflPairs  should  be  regulated  according  to  the  will  of 
God,  so  far  as  that  will  can  be  gathered  from  Scripture ;  that 
their  peculiar  regulations,  so  far  from  being  essential,  should  be 
altered  whenever  such  alteration  may  promote  the  great  object — 
the  advancement  of  piety ;  and  that  a  member  of  any  Christian 
denomination  may  join  their  society  without  renouncing  his 
creed  or  church. 

Such  was  the  pure  and  simple  faith  on  which  Zinzendorf 
based  his  new  society,  and  to  the  promotion  of  which  he  after- 
wards sacrificed  his  entire  estate.  We  cannot  follow  the  self- 
denying  labours  of  the  new  denomination  any  further  than  they 
are  connected  with  the  personal  history  of  Zinzendorf;  but  it 
may  be  remarked  in  general,  that  the  obstacles  to  the  com- 
mencing of  the  society's  operation,  and  the  trials  subsequently 
endured  by  its  missionaries,  would  have  discouraged  one  less 
energetic  and  less  pious  than  Zinzendorf.  Such  was  his  anxiety 
to  become  a  preacher,  that,  in  1734,  he  went  under  an  assumed 
name  to  Stralsund,  passed  an  examination  as  a  theological  can- 
didate, and  preached  for  the  first  time  in  the  city  church.  After 
visiting  several  countries,  with  a  view  to  gain  some  to  his  society, 
he  was,  in  1736,  banished  from  Saxony.  Retiring  to  Berlin,  he 
was  created  bishop  of  the  Moravian  church  at  that  place,  when, 
as  he  could  not  preach,  he  held  weekly  meetings,  which  were 
well  attended.  In  1739,  he  visited  the  Brethren's  missions  in 
the  "West  Indies,  and  two  years  later,  those  in  North  America. 
During  this  visit,  he  preached  and  wrote  incessantly,  and  esta- 
blished missions  among  several  of  the  Indian  tribes.  Among 
his  books,  written  at  this  time,  are  many  for  the  instruction  of 
the  Brethren,  a  number  in  defence  of  himself  or  his  doctrines, 
against  attacks  from  various  quarters,  and  a  variety  of  hymns, 
of  which  some  are  still  used  by  the  Moravians  in  their  public 
worship.  They  are  described  as  containing  quaint  or  gross 
images,  and  as  not  evincing  a  great  amount  of  inspiration.  His 
writings  are  also  tinged  with  mysticism  and  ambiguity,  attri- 


NICHOLAS  LOUIS   ZINZENDORF.  835 

butable  in  a  great  measure  to  the  haste  in  which   they  were 

composed. 

Zinzendorf  returned  to  Europe  in  1743.     TraveUmg  to  Livo- 
nia,  he  was  stopped  by  command  of  the  Russian  government, 
and  sent  back  under  military  escort.     He  then  visited  Holland 
and  England,  remaining  in  the  latter  country  about  four  years, 
and  under  the  countenance  of  Archbishop  Porter,  General  Ogle- 
thorpe, and  others,  obtained  an  act  of  parliament  for  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Moravians  in  Great  Britain.     In  1647,  the  order 
of  his  banishment  from  his  country  was  repealed.     From  this 
time  until  his  death,  in  1760,  he  continued  to  preach,  write,  and 
travel,  devoting  all  his  labours  to  the  interests  of  the  society 
which  he  had  founded.     He  established  a  Moravian  academy  ; 
obtained  from  a  commission  of  investigation  a  declaration  that 
the  United  Brethren  were  true  adherents  to  the  Confession  of 
Augsburg;  and  though  opposed  by  learned  men  of  nearly  every 
denomination,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  his  followers 
increase,   and  of  sending  out  missions   to  heathen   countries. 
His  followers  have  extended  their  benevolent  eiforts  to  climes 
the  most  inhospitable  and  forbidding ;  and  hundreds  of  Chris- 
tian communities  have,  through  his  influence,  been  established 
amid  the  snows  of  Greenland,  the  rocks  of  Labrador,  the  forests 
of  the  Western  World,  and  the  glowing  sands  of  the  Eastern 
tropics. 


S36 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


DAVID   BRAINERD. 


RAINERD  has  written  his  own  biography,  with 
a  minuteness  which  renders  some  of  its  scenes 
painful.  He  was  born  at  Haddam,  Connecticut, 
in  April,  1718,  and  was  the  son  of  Hezekiah 
Brainerd,  one  of  the  king's  counsel.  At  an  early 
age  he  lost  his  father,  and  a  few  years  after,  his 
mother.  These  bereavements  seemed  to  have  so 
powerfully  affected  his  mind,  that  for  six  years 
he  was  haunted  by  thoughts  of  death,  and  a  con- 
sciousness of  his  wickedness.  He  sought  relief  in 
a  strict  performance  of  religious  duties,  but  his  dis- 
tress remained,  and  this  period  of  his  life  was  one 
'f  constant  struggling  and  mental  affliction.  At  the 
ige  of  twenty,  he  resolved  to  devote  himself  to  the 
ministry,  and,  as  a  preparatory  step,  entered  the  family 
of  Mr.  Fiske,  pastor  of  the  church  at  Haddam.  Here 
the  impotency  of  his  self-righteous  acts  became  apparent  to 
him.  "My  former  good  frames,"  he  says,  «<that  I  pleased 
myself  with,  all  vanished.  There  appeared  mountains  before 
me  to  obstruct  my  hopes  of  mercy  ;  and  I  begrudged  in  my  w^alks 
the  birds  and  beasts  their  happiness.  I  used  to  put  off  the  dis- 
covery of  my  own  heart  as  what  I  could  not  bear.  My  sins 
were  like  swift  messengers  against  me.  I  strove  to  heal  myself, 
but  it  could  not  be.  The  njany  disappointments,  the  distresses 
and  perplexities  I  felt,  threw  me  into  a  terrible  frame  of  mind. 
Often  I  used  to  imagine  my  heart  was  not  so  bad  ;  but  suddenly 
it  would  break  over  all  bounds,  and  burst  forth  on  all  sides  like 
floods  of  water.  I  scarcely  dared  to  sleep  at  all,  lest  I  should 
awake  in  that  fearful  world." 

But  this  miserable  condition  was  at  lenorth  terminated,  and 
the  mourner  was  permitted  to  rejoice  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
true   way  of  life.     He  then  entered  Yale  College,  where  he 


DAVIU    BRAINEKD.  33' 

Studied  with  such  ardour  as  soon  laid  liim  upon  a  bed  of  sick- 
ness     In  the  great  revival  of  religion  at  New  Haven,  during 
the  following  year,  Brainerd  was  deeply  interested,  and  with 
several  other  students  held  a  series  of  religious  meetings,  mthe 
rooms  of  the  college.     At  the  age  of  twenty-four  he  received 
license  to  preach,  and  soon  after  he  was  stationed   among  the 
Indians  at  Kanaumech,  a  place  in  the  wilderness,  twenty  miles 
distant  from  any  English  settlement.     Here,  shut  out  from  all 
society,  except  that  of  a  friendly  Highlander  and  hiswife,  Bram- 
erd's  sufferings  were  great.     His  diet  was  meagre  and  unwhole- 
some, his  lodging  a  log  hut,  and  his  bed  a  bundle  of  straw  spread 
on  boards.     After  some  months,  a  hut  was  raised  for  hira  ;  and 
his  condition  on  moving  into  it  he  thus  feelingly  describes: 
»I  am  now  quite  alone;  no  friend  to  conimumcate  any  ot  my 
sorrows  to,  or  take  sweet  counsel  together.     In  my  weak  state 
of  health,  I  had  no  bread,  nor  could  I  get  any.     I  am  forced 
to  so  or  send  ten  or  fifteen  miles  for  all  the  bread  I   eat,  and 
sometimes  it  is  mouldy  and  sour  before  I  get  it."     Again  he 
says-  "I  had  to  travel  day  and  night  in   stormy  and   severe 
weather,  though  very  ill,  and  full  of  pain.   Was  almost  outdone 
,vith  the  extreme  fatigue  and  wet,  yet  few  that  I  sought  were 
disposed  to  converse  of  heavenly  things.     I  love  to  live  alone  m 
my  own  little  cottage,  where  I  can  spend  much  time  m  prayer. 
During  the  fifteen  months  past,  I  have  been  enabled  to  bestow 
to  charitable  uses,  a  hundred  and  eighty  pounds."    At  the  same 
time  he  was  studying  the  English  language  under  Mr.  Sergeant 
of  Stockbridge,  a  distance  of  twenty  miles.     He  rode  there  and 
back  in  all  weathers,  occasionally  visiting  Kinderhook  and  Al- 
bany but,  as  it  would  seem,  with  little  success  or  encourage- 
ment    The  Dutch  settlers  at  those  places  were  wholly  immersed 
in  worldly  business.     They  rose  at  dawn  and  retired  to  bed  at 
sunset.     No  vehicle,  save  a  wagon,  ever  passed  their  streets, 
and  the  busy  hum  of  dissipation,  pleasure,  and  active  employ- 
ment which  betokens  modern  civilized  life  was  unknown.      At 
eve  the  whole  family  gathered  round  the  vast  patriarchal  chim- 
ney   with  its  rustic  decorations  and  stone  seats— the  men  to 
smoke  and  muse,  the  women  to  knit,  and  talk  at  intervals  of  the 
world  of  Albany  and  Kinderhook. 

After  Brainerd  had  been  at  Kanauhook  about  a  year,  the  com- 
missioners resolved  to  send  him  to  the  Delaware  river.  He  accord- 


43  2F 


g88  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

ingly  gathered  the  Indians  around  him  and  preached  to  them  for 
the  last  time  ;  and  after  disposing  of  his  household  goods  and 
other  materials,  he  set  out  for  his  new  field  of  labour.  On  the 
way,  his  trials,  temptations,  and  hardships  were  so  numerous, 
that  on  more  than  one  occasion  he  was  on  the  point  of  throw- 
ing himself  on  the  ground  to  await  the  approach  of  death.  He 
was  encouraged,  however,  to  proceed,  and  on  several  occasions 
he  preached  to  small  Indian  assemblies,  whom  he  met  on  his 
route.  While  thus  engaged,  he  was  suddenly  called  to  Newark, 
N.  J.,  in  order  to  be  fully  ordained  for  the  ministry.  After  re- 
ceiving this  summons  he  passed  many  days  in  severe  preparatory 
study.  Before  the  presbytery  he  delivered  his  probationary 
sermon,  and  afterwards  passed  an  examination.  This  being  highly 
satisfactory,  he  was  encouraged  for  the  missionary  work  which 
he  had  undertaken,  and  again  set  out  to  enter  upon  his  new  field 
on  the  Delaware.  Here  he  appears  to  have  met  with  little  suc- 
cess, and  he  afterwards  obtained  permission  of  the  governor  at 
Philadelphia,  to  open  a  mission  upon  the  Susquehanna.  After 
his  first  sermon  at  an  Indian  village  on  that  river,  he  went  from 
house  to  house,  conversing  as  well  as  he  could  with  the  inmates, 
and  explaining  to  them  the  truths  which  they  had  just  heard. 
The  narrative  of  his  condition  and  feelings  at  this  time  is  most 
touching.  "Next  day,  rose  at  four  in  the  morning,  and  travelled 
with  great  steadiness  till  six  at  night ;  then  made  a  fire  and  a 
shelter  of  barks.  The  wolves  howled  around  us.  The  follow- 
ing night  we  lost  our  way ;  it  was  very  dark — few  stars  to  be 
seen.  Formerly,  when  exposed  to  cold  and  rain,  I  was  ready 
to  please  myself  with  the  thoughts  of  enjoying  a  comfortable 
house,  a  warm  fire,  and  other  pleasures.  Came  to  a  lone  dwell- 
ing where  was  one  dead  and  laid  out.  Looked  on  the  corpse — 
it  was  the  youthful  owner  of  the  house,  and  his  widow  lamented 
for  him.  Death  had  found  him  out  in  his  solitude.  0  death, 
thou  art  no  king  of  terrors ;  thou  art  a  kind  guest ;  when  shall 
I  meet  thee  as  a  man  meets  his  friend  ?'*  Strange  that  a  spirit 
so  gloomy  and  desponding  could  find  occupation  in  advancing 
that  kingdom  whose  great  object  is  to  spread  joy  on  earth  and 
good  will  to  men. 

On  returning  to  the  Delaware,  Brainerd  built  for  himself  a 
small  cabin,  and  recommenced  his  instructions  to  the  Indians. 
Still  he  was  surrounded  by  difficulties.     At  that  time  a  number 


DAVID   BRAINERD.  83^ 

of  French  settlers  in  the  neighbourhood  had  incurred  the  dis- 
pleasure of  the  Indians,  and  a  plot  was  laid  to  destroy  them. 
At  a  given  signal  the  red  men  rushed  upon  their  neighbours, 
and  massacred  the  entire  number.     The  horrors  of  this  scene 
were  added  to  the  unavoidable  hardships  by  which  Brainerd  was 
surrounded.     Winter  was  fast  approaching  ;  snow  and  hail  beat 
into  his  desolate  dwelling ;  no  friend  was  near  to  aid  him  in  its 
construction ;  and  when  the  toils  of  the  day  were  over,  and  he 
sat  down  at  night  to  read  by  the  light  of  a  torch,  the  howling 
of  wolves  and  bears  broke  in  upon  the  solitude,  mingling  in  fear- 
ful unison  with  the  crash  of  falling  trees,  or  the  loud  roar  of  the 
swollen    river.     But   on   the   return    of  spring    his    prospects 
brightened.     The  Indians  came  in  considerable  numbers  to  hea*- 
his  preaching ;  the  interpreter  became  hopefully  converted ;  a   • 
chief  one  hundred  years  old  followed  ;  and  afterwards  in  a  great 
meeting  held  in  New  Jersey,  many  hundreds  were  deeply  affect- 
ed.   Cheered  by  this  success,  and  resolving  to  make  New  Jersey 
his  principal  field  of  labour,  he  stationed  himself  at  Crossweek- 
sung,  not  far  from  the  sea.     "It  was  late  at  night.     All  day  I 
had  laboured  with  this  people  ;  my  soul,  my  soul  that  had  longed 
for  this  hour  was  transported  with  joy.    How  I  grieved  to  leave 
the  place.     Earth,  cover  not  thou  my  head  yet  a  while ;  though 
the  thoughts  of  death  are  sweet,  I  would  fain  stay  while  this 
great  work  advances."     The  Indians  abandoned,  one  by  one, 
their  idolatrous  practices,  and  in  a  little  while  invited  the  mis- 
sionary to  their  houses,  so  as  to  converse  upon  matters  of  re- 
ligion. 

After  remaining  at  this  place  for  some  time,  Brainerd  set  out 
for  the  Susquehanna,  where  he  hoped  to  see  a  similar  reforma- 
tion effected.  He  was  disappointed  and  soon  returned.  For 
a  while  his  labours  at  Crossweeksung  were  divided  between  preach- 
ing, examining  the  new  converts,  and  administering  baptism. 
Some  came  fifty  miles  to  hear  him.  "I  stood  amazed,"  he 
writes,  "at  the  influence  that  seemed  to  descend  upon  the  as- 
sembly, and  with  an  astonishing  energy  bore  down  all  before  it, 
and  could  compare  it  to  nothing  more  aptly  than  to  a  mighty 
torrent.  The  most  fierce  and  stubborn  hearts  were  now  obliged 
to  bow.  Their  concern  was  so  great,  each  for  himself,  that 
none  seemed  to  take  any  notice  of  those  about  them,  but  each 
prayed  for  himself.     Each  seemed  to  mourn  apart."     Yet  even 


340  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

in  this  prosperity  he  was  again  tempted  to  set  out  for  the  Sus. 
quehanna.  During  the  journey  he  was  overtaken  by  a  snow- 
storm, and  nearly  perished.  Next  day  his  horse  and  that  of  the 
interpreter  were  disabled  by  eating  a  poisonous  plant ;  and  after- 
wards the  missionary  was  seized  with  a  burning  fever  from 
which  he  narrowly  escaped  with  life.  He  was  obliged  to  cross 
mountains  where  there  were  but  few  human  abodes.  Height 
after  height  arose  before  him,  which  the  white  man's  foot  had 
never  pressed.  Sometimes  a  wide  circuit  became  necessary  in 
order  to  avoid  a  precipice ;  and  often  a  deep  glen,  where  the 
sun  never  fell,  afforded  the  only  shelter  at  night.  The  dangers 
were  augmented  by  floods  of  melted  snow,  which,  descending  in 
torrents  from  the  mountain  tops,  swept  rock  and  forest  before 
them  in  irresistible  ruin.  During  three  weeks  Brainerdand  his 
companion  lay  at  night  on  the  ground. 

This  visit  to  the  Susquehanna,  w^as  to  as  little  purpose  as 
the  former  ones.  The  Indians  were  civil  and  friendly,  but 
i' bad  listeners  and  worse  believers."  He  was  welcomed  how- 
ever to  their  wigwams :  they  spread  before  him  the  game  they 
had  killed ;  and  when  the  warriors  were  hunting,  he  had  free 
access  to  the  older  chiefs,  the  children  and  the  women.  They  were 
astonished  at  his  temperate  habits,  and  in  a  little  while  began  to 
look  upon  him  with  a  feeling  approaching  to  awe.  At  evening 
when  the  men  came  from  hunting,  Brainerd  would  endeavour  to 
gain  the  attention  of  the  chiefs  ;  but  if  their  chase  had  been 
unsuccessful  they  would  throw  themselves  upon  the  ground,  soured 
through  hunger  and  weariness.  After  remaining  at  this  place 
for  a  short  time  Brainerd  returned  to  New  Jersey. 

It  might  be  supposed  that  in  this  favourite  retreat,  where 
seventy  Indians  had  now  been  baptized,  the  missionary  would  have 
been  willing  to  end  his  days.  But  Brainerd's  mind  was  restless 
and  desultory.  Having  once  made  a  deep  impression,  he 
quickly  began  to  sigh  for  some  other  scene,  where  his  message 
had  not  yet  been  received.  He  could  have  braved  a  martyr's 
death  ;  but  the  calm,  firm  patience,  pressing  on  slowly  but  surely 
towards  its  object,  he  was  a  stranger  to.  "I  will  then  say," 
(he  writes  soon  after  reaching  New  Jersey  once  more)  Farewell 
earthly  comforts  and  friends,  the  dearest  of  them  all ;  the  very 
dearest,  if  the  Lord  calls  for  it,  adieu,  adieu.     I'll  spend  my  life 


DAVID  BRAINERD.  341 

to  my  latest  moment  in  caves  and  dens  of  the  earth,  if  the  king- 
dom of  Chiist  may  be  advanced." 

The  next  field  of  Brainerd's  labom's  was  a  small  Dutch  settle- 
ment near  the  Delaware.  He  again  reared  a  hut ;  and  soon 
these  sturdy  settlers  gathered  their  homes  around  his,  and  lis- 
tened to  his  instructions.  They  were  in  a  little  while  joined  by 
a  number  of  Indians.  Brainerd  procured  a  schoolmaster  for 
the  children  and  younger  people.  These  were  taught  during 
the  day,  and  the  older  ones  at  night.  The  next  step  in  their 
Christian  advancement  was  the  erection  of  a  church.  Here, 
after  a  strict  examination,  Brainerd  administered  the  sacrament 
to  the  converts.  "  It  was  received  with  great  solemnity  and 
seriousness,  and  seemed  to  diffuse  through  their  hearts  great 
union  and  love  toward  each  other."  Such  was  the  effect  of  his 
labours  at  this  time,  that  companies  of  the  natives  frequently 
retired  into  the  woods  and  spent  the  greater  part,  or  all  of  the 
night,  in  devotional  exercises.  During  the  day  they  collected 
around  the  missionary  for  instruction.  His  method  of  instruc- 
tion was  to  give  historical  relations  from  Scripture  of  the  most 
remarkable  occurrences,  or  to  expound  chapters  of  the  New 
Testament,  and  then  to  propose  questions  on  the  chief  parts, 
until  the  whole  was  thoroughly  impressed  upon  the  mind. 

A  change  had  come  over  the  outward  prospects  of  this  devoted 
man.  His  fame  had  spread,  not  by  his  wish,  but  because  it 
could  not  be  repressed,  and  other  ministers,  at  the  distance  of 
fifty  or  sixty  miles,  often  invited  him  to  their  dAvellings.  It  is 
touching  to  read  in  his  narrative  how  he  came,  sometimes  at 
night  to  some  friendly  roof,  where  many  comforts  invited  him 
to  stay  a  while,  the  kind  words  and  pitying  looks  of  the  women, 
their  minute  attentions  to  his  failing  health,  the  sympathy  of 
his  brother  ministers  to  whom  his  coming  was  so  welcome :  the 
evening  circle  gathered  round  the  fire ;  the  soft  couch  and  the 
prepared  chamber.  But  he  rarely  stayed  on  these  visits  more 
than  one  or  two  days  ;  and  so  fatal  had  been  the  ravages  of  the 
destroyer  upon  his  still  youthful  frame,  that  in  riding  backward 
and  forward,  six  Indian  companions  accompanied  him,  and  some- 
times caught  him  in  their  arms  as  he  fell  fainting  from  his  horse. 
But  he  was  encouraged  by  the  rapid  progress  of  religion  among 
his  people.     His  unwearied  efforts  and  entreaties  by  day  and 

2p2 


34-i  LIVES   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

night,  from  house  to  house  and  with  each  individual,  were  the 
source  of  much  happiness  to  the  converts. 

But  amid  all  this  prosperity,  the  dark  spirit  of  melancholy  still 
haunted  the  missionary's  mind.  "  I  am  in  a  kind  of  stifled  horror, 
(he  writes,)  so  that  I  cannot  rest.  Is  it  possible  for  such  a  one 
as  me  to  be  in  a  state  of  grace  ?  The  deep  waters,  the  torrents 
of  corruption  that  bear  me  down.  I  got  into  a  kind  of  hovel 
in  the  wild,  and  there  gave  vent  to  the  depth  of  my  distress — 
neither  eating  nor  drinking  from  morning  to  evening,  beseeching 
God  to  have  mercy  on  me."  Yet  even  while  in  this  dreadful 
condition,  he  journied  from  place  to  place,  visiting,  among  other 
towns,  Zeisberger's  settlement  at  Bethlehem,  and  Elizabethtown, 
in  New  Jersey.  At  Northampton  he  consulted  Dr.  Mather  con- 
cerning his  health,  who  declared  him  to  be  in  a  rapid  consump- 
tion, and  advised  him  to  go  to  Boston.  His  reputation  had  pre- 
ceded him,  and  the  interest  of  all  classes  were  greatly  excited 
at  his  coming.  Ministers,  both  from  the  town  and  country, 
visited  him  continually.  Many  gentlemen  gave  large  donations 
for  his  Indian  mission,  and  every  week  brought  from  Crossweek- 
sung  news  of  fresh  triumphs.  The  commissioners  of  Boston 
allowed  him  to  select  two  missionaries  to  be  sent  to  the  Six  Na- 
tions. This  was  the  last  important  action  of  Brainerd.  That 
night  an  unwonted  joy  pervaded  his  frame.  His  fierce  tempta- 
tions were  past.  All  the  mercies  of  his  checkered  career,  the 
days  and  nights  of  agonizing  prayer,  the  presence  and  love  of 
the  Comforter,  the  dread  struggle  and  the  triumph,  all  gathered 
round  his  parting  soul,  like  swift  and  glorious  witnesses.  His 
companion  during  his  stay  in  Boston  was  the  young  daughter 
of  President  Edwards.  On  the  following  morn  she  came  into 
his  room.  Looking  earnestly  at  her,  he  expressed  his  grief  at 
parting  with  her,  and  expressed  the  glad  confidence  of  meeting 
her  in  another  world.  During  the  day  he  lay  in  great  agony, 
and  expired  at  daybreak  on  the  following  morning.  He  was 
but  twentynine  years  old. 

Few  will  read  our  sketch  of  poor  Brainerd,  short  and  impel 
feet  as  it  is,  without  a  sigh.  There  was  never  a  more  striking 
instance  of  the  magical  influence  of  the  spirit  over  the  frame, 
urging  it  to  incredible  exertions  and  hardships,  and  yet  warding 
off  the  dissolution  which  tracked  it  at  every  step.  There  seems 
something  sublime  in  his  life,  and  heroic  in  his  early  doom.    The 


DAVID   BRAINERD.  343 

corruptions  of  our  nature,  over  which  he  mourns,  were  scourged 
with  a  rod  of  iron.  His  weakness  was  made  perfect  in  the  Di- 
vine strength,  and  the  foot  of  the  cross  was  his  only  refuge, 
when  "the  blast  of  the  terrible  ones  was  upon  him."  At  their 
coming  he  shrunk  and  cowered,  for  it  was  dreadful — the  horror 
of  thick  darkness.  But  afterwards  his  spirit  returned,  and  he 
looked  to  Heaven  with  gratitude  and  love. 

Brainerd  was  buried  at  Northampton ;  and  three  months  after, 
his  grave  was  re-opened,  and  the  lovely  young  being  who  had 
shed  bitter  tears  while  watching  her  dying  friend,  and  over 
whom  eighteen  summers  had  scarcely  passed,  was  lowered  down 
to  sleep  by  his  side. 


344 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JOHN    WESLEY. 


OHN  WESLEY,  the  founder  of  Methodism, 
was  born  on  the  17th  of  June,  1703,  at  the 
village  of  Epworth  in  Lincolnshire,  England. 
His  ancestors  were  men  eminent  for  piety, 
;ind  a  zealous  adherence  to  what  conscience 
taught  them  was  right.  They  have  left  on 
^ecord  many  noble  instances  of  integrity  and 
^mness  of  mind  under  severe  persecution,  and 
indeed  it  would  seem  that  the  family  inheritance 
a  high  sense  of  religious  duty,  with  a  total 
jgard  for  secular  interests  in  connection  there- 
with. John  Wesley  received  his  full  share  of  this 
somewhat  inconvenient  but  noble  family  possession'. 
When  he  was  six  years  old,  his  father's  house  was 
set  on  fire  by  the  malice  of  some  of  his  persecutors,  and 
he  was  nearly  involved  in  its  destruction.  The  fire  was 
made  known  to  the  inmates,  by  sparks  from  the  burning  roof 
falling  upon  a  sleeping  child  in  bed  beneath  it.  With  great 
difiiculty,  Mr.  Wesley  succeeded  in  getting  his  wife  and  eldest 
children  out  of  the  house,  while  the  nursery  maid  assisted  the 
younger  children ;  but  John  was  forgotten  in  the  confusion, 
until  his  screams  for  help  were  heard  from  the  nursery.  His 
father  flew  to  his  rescue,  but  the  stairs  were  on  fire,  and  so 
much  burned  that  they  would  not  bear  his  weight.  He  gave 
up  the  child  for  lost,  and  knelt  in  prayer  to  God  for  his  soul. 
The  boy,  however,  finding  no  one  coming  to  save  him,  and  seeing 
the  chamber  and  bed  burning,  climbed  upon  a  chest,  and  from 
that  to  the  window,  where  he  was  seen  by  the  people  outside. 
One  man  climbed  upon  the  shoulders  of  another,  and  took  him 
from  the  window  at  the  very  instant  that  the  roof  fell  in.  Had 
it  fallen  outwards,  they  would  have  all  been  destroyed  together. 
This  miraculous  es/^ape  from  death  seems  to  have  awakened 


JOHN  WESLEY.  345 

a  peculiar  interest  for  her  son  John,  in  the  mind  of  his  mother, 
who  gave  to  all  her  children  the  first  part  of  their  education, 
and  whose  religious  instruction  undoubtedly  exercised  an  im- 
mense influence  over  their  after-lives.  In  allusion  to  his  pre- 
servation and  her  plans  respecting  his  tuition,  she  holds  the 
following  language  in  her  diary.  "I  do  intend  to  be  more 
farticularly  careful  of  the  soul  of  this  child,  that  Thou  hast  so 
mercifully  provided  for,  than  I  have  ever  been;  that  I  may  do 
my  endeavour  to  instil  into  his  mind  the  principles  of  Thy  true 
religion  and  virtue.  Lord,  give  me  grace  to  do  it  sincerely  and 
prudently,  and  bless  my  attempts  with  good  success." 

When  he  was  about  eight  years  old  he  began  to  receive  the 
sacrament.  At  nine  he  had  the  small-pox,  with  four  others  of 
the  children,  and  his  mother  writes  to  her  husband,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  absent,  that  "Jack  has  bore  his  disease  bravely 
like  a  man,  and  indeed  like  a  Christian,  without  any  complaint; 
though  he  seemed  angry  at  the  small-pox  when  they  were  sore, 
as  we  guessed  by  his  looking  sourly  at  them,  for  he  never  said 
any  thing." 

In  1714,  he  was  placed  at  the  Charter  House,  where  he 
speedily  evinced  great  diligence  and  progress  in  learning.  He 
commenced  the  study  of  Hebrew  when  he  was  sixteen,  and  in 
the  following  year  was  elected  to  Christ  Church,  Oxford.  To- 
wards the  close  of  the  year  1824,  he  began  to  reflect  upon 
entering  into  deacon's  orders,  the  importance  of  the  ministerial 
office,  the  motives  of  entering  it,  and  the  qualifications  for  it. 
He  corresponded  with  great  frankness  and  freedom  with  his 
parents  upon  the  subject  of  his  meditations,  and  upon  the  books 
he  read,  and  their  letters  were  such  as  to  reward  him  amplj 
for  his  afl'ectionate  confidence.  In  the  month  of  September., 
1725,  he  was  ordained  deacon,  by  Potter,  Bishop  of  Oxford. 

In  the  spring  of  1726,  Mr.  Wesley  became  a  candidate  for 
a  fellowship  in  Lincoln  College,  and  obtained  his  election  through 
the  influence  of  Dr.  Morley,  the  rector  of  the  college.  He  had 
become  a  fellow  of  a  college  where  he  knew  not  one  person. 
He  was  at  the  same  time  rid  of  all  his  old  acquaintance,  many 
of  whom  he  was  anxious  to  be  freed  from,  and  he  formed  a  reso- 
lution for  his  government  in  this  respect  for  the  future,  which 
he  thus  refers  to  in  a  sermon  sixty  years  afterwards.  He  says, 
"I  foresaw  abundance  of  people  would  come  to  see  me,  cither 
44 


346  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

out  of  friendship,  civility,  or  curiosity,  and  that  I  should  hava 
offers  of  acquaintance  new  and  old;  but  I  had  now  fixed  my 
plan.  Entering  now,  as  it  were,  into  a  new  world,  I  resolved 
to  have  no  acquaintance  by  chance,  but  by  choice,  and  to  choose 
such  only  as  I  had  reason  to  believe  would  help  me  on  my  way 
to  heaven.  In  consequence  of  this  I  narrowly  observed  the 
temper  and  behaviour  of  all  that  visited  me.  I  saw  no  reason 
to  think  that  .the  greater  part  of  these  truly  loved  or  feared 
God.  Such  acquaintance,  therefore,  I  did  not  choose :  I  could 
not  expect  they  would  do  me  any  good.  Therefore,  when  any 
of  these  came,  I  behaved  as  courteously  as  I  could ;  but  to  the 
question,  'When  will  you  come  to  see  me?'  I  returned  no 
answer.  When  they  had  come  a  few  times  and  found  I  still 
declined  returning  the  visit,  I  saw  them  no  more.  And  I 
bless  God  this  has  been  my  invariable  rule  for  about  threescore 
years.  I  knew  many  reflections  would  follow  ;  but  that  did  not 
move  me,  as  I  knew  full  well  it  was  my  calling  to  go  through 
evil  report  and  good  report." 

Eight  months  after  his  election  to  a  fellowship  he  was  ap- 
pointed Greek  lecturer  and  moderator  of  the  classes.  He  was 
absent  from  the  college  for  a  short  time,  officiating  for  his  father 
at  Wooste,  but  a  new  regulation  of  the  college  summoned  him 
to  return.  While  he  was  away,  his  brother  Charles,  who  was- 
pursuing  his  studies  at  Christ  Church,  had  associated  himself 
with  two  or  three  undergraduates  for  the  purpose  of  religious 
improvement,  living  by  rule,  and  receiving  the  sacrament  weekly. 
Their  peculiar  course  speedily  drew  down  upon  them  the  ridicule 
of  their  neighbours,  and  one  person  having  remarked  in  reference 
to  their  methodical  manner  of  life,  that  a  new  sect  of  Methodists 
had  sprung  up,  the  name  obtained  vogue,  d,nd  became  the  title 
of  the  great  religious  sect  which  these  brothers  founded.  When 
John  Wesley  returned  to  Oxford,  the  associates  placed  themselves 
under  his  direction,  and  his  acknowledged  character  and  ability 
caused  an  accession  to  their  numbers.  The  shafts  of  ridicule 
were  launched  unsparingly  at  them,  and  the  reports  of  their 
doings  reached  the  ears  of  old  Mr.  Wesley,  who  writes  on  the 
subject  as  follows: — "I  hear  my  son  John  has  the  honour  of 
being  styled  the  Father  of  the  Holy  Club:  if  it  be  so,  I  am 
sure  I  must  be  the  grandfather  of  it ;  and  I  need  not  say  I  had 
rather  any  of  my  sons  should  be  so  dignified  and  distinguished^ 


JOHN   WESLEY.  847 

than  to  have  the  title  of  His  Holiness."  Hervey,  the  famous 
author  of  the  "Meditations,"  was  a  member  of  this  little  party, 
and  George  Whitefield  was  another. 

The  society  however  diminished  gradually  in  numbers,  and 
when  the  Wesleys  left  the  University,  it  became  nearly,  if  not 
totally  extinct.  Old  Mr.  Wesley  found  himself  labouring  under 
a  fatal  illness,  and  a  correspondence  was  carried  on  between 
him  and  his  son  John,  relative  to  the  taking  charge  by  the 
latter  of  the  congregation  of  Epworth.  John  determined  not 
to  accept  it,  and  no  reasoning  could  induce  him  to  change  his 
mind  on  this  subject.  His  father  died  in  May,  1735,  and  in 
the  following  month  the  vacant  living  was  disposed  of,  so  that 
John  thought  himself  fixed  at  Oxford,  at  the  very  time  that 
every  thing  was  arranged  for  his  removal  to  a  far  distant  scene 
of  labour.  Dr.  Burton  introduced  him  to  Mr.  Oglethorpe, 
governor  of  the  colony  of  Georgia,  who  requested  him  to  remove 
to  America,  and  engage  in  the  conversion  of  the  Indians.  He 
consulted  his  friends,  who  generally  favoured  the  scheme,  and 
his  mother,  who  answered,  "Had  I  twenty  sons,  I  should  rejoice 
that  they  were  all  so  employed,  though  I  should  never  see  them 
more."  Having  consented  to  become  a  missionary,  he  embarked 
on  the  14th  of  October,  1735,  at  Gravesend,  accompanied  by 
his  brother  Charles.  On  board  the  vessel  were  twenty-six 
German  Moravians,  whose  piety  and  loving  confidence  in  the 
Divine  providence  greatly  charmed  Mr.  Wesley,  and  caused  him 
to  commence  the  study  of  the  German  language,  that  he  might 
converse  with  them.  On  one  occasion,  in  the  midst  of  the 
Psalm  with  which  their  service  began,  the  sea  broke  over  the 
vessel,  split  the  mainsail  in  pieces,  covered  the  ship,  and  poured 
in  between  the  decks,  as  if  the  great  deep  had  already  swallowed 
them  up.  A  terrible  screaming  began  among  the  English.- 
The  Germans  calmly  sung  on.  Mr.  Wesley  asked  one  of  them 
afterwards,  "Were  you  not  afraid  ?"  He  replied,  "  I  thank  God, 
no."  He  was  then  asked  if  the  women  and  children  were  not 
afraid,  and  answered  "No,  our  women  and  children  are  not 
afraid  to  die." 

On  the  6th  of  February,  1736,  they  landed  near  Savannah, 
and  Mr.  Wesley  remained  in  the  colony  nearly  two  years, 
preaching  the  gospel,  to  use  his  own  words,  "not  as  he  ought 
but  as  he  was  able."     He  landed  at  Deal,  on  his  return  to 


348  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

EnglanJl,  on  the  1st  of  February,  1738.  Here  he  found  that 
Mr.  Whitefield  had  sailed  the  day  before  for  Greorgia,  after 
having  made  a  great  impression  in  London  and  other  places  by 
his  preaching. 

His  sermons  on  the  doctrine  of  the  new  birth  and  justificn- 
tion  by  faith  awakened  a  powerful  interest  in  the  minds  of  all 
who  heard  them ;  and  the  clergy,  who  had  determined  to  deny 
him  their  pulpits  in  consequence,  were  extremely  well  pleased 
when  they  learned  that  he  was  going  to  America,  where  the 
whole  force  of  his  enthusiasm  might  expand  itself  without  dan- 
ger. But  simultaneously  with  his  departure,  appeared  Mr. 
Wesley,  whose  first  sermon,  preached  upon  the  text,  "if  any 
man  be  in  Christ  he  is  a  new  creature,"  was  so  high-strained  as 
to  mark  its  author  as  the  successor  of  Whitefield,  and  as  one 
calculated  to  deepen  and  widen  the  impression  he  had  made. 
This  sermon  was  preached  on  the  second  day  after  his  arrival 
in  London,  and  he  was  immediately  informed  that  he  was  not 
to  occupy  that  pulpit  again.  On  the  next  Sunday  he  preached 
at  St.  Andrews,  Holborn,  and  after  the  service  received  a  simi- 
lar notice. 

Soon  after,  he  became  a  pupil  of  Peter  Boehler,  a  Moravian, 
whose  teachings,  operating  through  the  previously  formed  cha- 
racter of  the  Wesleys,  John  and  Charles,  led  directly  to  the 
foundation  of  the  first  Methodist  society.  On  Wednesday, 
May  24,  1738,  John  Wesley  dates  his  conversion  to  true  Chris- 
tianity, the  day  of  his  regeneration.  The  two  brothers  Wesley, 
with  a  Mr.  Hutchins  and  a  Mr.  Fox,  and  forty  others,  formed 
themselves  into  a  society,  which  met  in  Fetter  Lane  every  Wed- 
nesday evening,  that  they  might  enjoy  free  conversation,  and 
build  each  other  up  in  faith.  The  order  they  adopted  for  their 
government  constitutes  the  basis  of  the  Vvhole  Methodist  eco- 
nomy, and  if  it  had  been  rigidly  adhered  to,  might  have  pre- 
vented much  trouble  and  confusion. 

In  the  expectation  that,  by  communion  with  the  Moravian 
brethren,  his  faith  would  be  still  more  firmly  established,  Mr. 
Wesley  made  a  visit  of  a  fortnight's  duration  to  their  settlement 
at  Herrnhut,  stopping  by  the  way  at  Marienborn,  where  Wesley 
and  Zinzendorf  had  conversations  with  each  other  respecting 
their  reHgious  views.  They  by  no  means  agreed  in  every  thing, 
but  Mr.  Wesley  was  on  the  whole  delighted  with  his  visit,  and 


JOHN   WESLEY.  349 

would  gladly  have  spent  his  life  there,  but  for  the  labour  his 
Master  had  to  be  done  in  another  part  of  the  vineyard. 

Charles  Wesley  meanwhile  had  continued  with  the  society  at 
Fetter  Lane,  and  it  was  increasing  rapidly  when  his  brother 
John  returned  from  Germany  and  Mr.  Whitefield  from  America. 
John  Wesley  now  immediately  commenced  those  systematic 
labours  which  made  him  the  founder  of  the  great  religious  body 
of  Methodists.  He  began  to  exhort  and  to  preach,  often  three 
or  four  times  a  day,  at  the  prisons  and  other  places  in  the  me- 
tropolis, and  made  many  excursions  into  the  country,  v»here  his 
audiences  were  large  and  his  followers  became  very  numerous. 
Whitefield  had  commenced  the  practice  of  field-preaching,  and 
invited  Mr.  Wesley  to  Bristol  to  join  him.  The  invitation  was 
accepted,  but  it  soon  appeared  that  there  were  some  diff*erences 
of  doctrine  between  them,  which  gradually  led  to  their  estrange- 
ment, and  a  separation  between  the  societies  over  which  they 
presided.  The  strict  and  orderly  discipline  established  by  Mr. 
Wesley,  commencing  with  the  small  division  of  classes,  and  end- 
ing in  the  annual  conferences  of  the  numerous  preachers,  com- 
bined admirably  with  their  peculiarities  of  doctrine  to  bind  the 
members  together,  and  the  societies  to  each  other,  and  in  the 
infancy  of  the  sect,  this  was  not  a  little  aided  by  the  persecu- 
tions sustained  from  the  ministry  and  laymen  of  the  established 
church.  Mr.  Wesley  was  frequently  assaulted,  and  on  several 
occasions  found  himself  entirely  in  the  hands  of  a  mob,  from 
whose  violence  his  escape  seems  truly  miraculous.  Once  a  lusty 
man  struck  at  him  from  behind  several  times  with  an  oaken 
stick,  with  which,  if  he  had  been  struck,  he  would  have  preached 
no  more ;  but  every  time  the  blow  was  turned  aside,  although 
Mr.  Wesley  himself  was  so  crowded  as  to  be  unable  to  move 
hand  or  foot.  Some  cried  out  to  kill  him,  and  the  shout  "  crucify 
the  dog"  rang  in  his  ears  like  the  death-knell  of  a  martyr. 
Once  he  was  struck  on  the  shoulder  with  a  brick,  and  at  an- 
other time  he  received  a  similar  blow  between  the  eyes.  In 
another  mob  he  was  struck  two  blows,  one  on  the  breast  and 
another  on  the  mouth,  so  that  the  blood  gushed  out.  During 
all  his  sufferings,  Mr.  Wesley  bore  himself  with  the  most  philo- 
sophical fortitude  and  Christian  patience  and  dignity.  He  ever 
imitated  Him,  who,  when  he  was  reviled,  reviled  not  again ; 
who,  when  he  suffered,  threatened  not ;  and  his  whole  temper 

2  G 


350  LIVES    OF    EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

and  conduct  were  worthy  of  a  soldier  of  the  cross.  He  always 
took  care  to  give  no  unnecessary  offence  to  any  one ;  he  was 
cautious  and  prudent  at  all  times,  and  his  sufferings  and  those 
of  his  followers,  taken  in  connection  with  his  blameless  life  and 
holy  teachings,  drew  thousands  to  his  standard.  He  gave  his 
followers  the  advice  to  speak  no  word  against  opinions  of  any 
kind ;  to  fight  not  against  notions,  but  sins. 

The  approach  of  old  age  did  not  in  the  least  abate  the  zeal 
and  diligence  of  Mr.  AYesley.  He  was  almost  perpetually  tra- 
velling, and  his  religious  services  alone  are  almost  incredible, 
although  he  added  to  them  many  literary  and  controversial 
labours.  The  last  annual  conference  at  which  he  presided  was 
held  at  Bristol  in  the  year  1790.  At  that  time,  there  were  in 
the  connection  216  circuits,  511  preachers,  and  120,233  mem- 
bers. All  this  great  work  had  been  done  in  fifty  years,  under 
the  superintendence  of  John  Wesley  himself,  and  a  great  part 
of  it  was  owing,  under  God,  to  his  own  personal  exertions. 

In  1790,  he  found  his  eyes  growing  dim  and  his  strength  for- 
saking him.  He  was  in  his  eighty-eighth  year.  When  the 
hour  of  his  dissolution  drew  near  he  was  thoroughly  sensible  of 
its  approach,  and  he  met  it  with  true  Christian  fortitude.  He 
repeated  frequently  in  his  dying  moments,  "  God  is  with  us." 
He  died  without  a  groan  on  the  2d  of  March,  1791,  with  his 
friends  kneeling  around  his  bedside,  in  the  full  possession  of  his 
faculties.  He  was  in  the  eighty-eighth  year  of  his  age,  and  the 
sixty-fifth  of  his  public  ministry.  His  excellencies  far  outshone 
his  errors.  His  whole  life  shows  him  to  have  been  honest,  punc- 
tual, and  regular,  cheerful  even  to  vivacity,  and  generous  in  a 
high  degree.  Some  of  his  actions  have  been  harshly  judged, 
and  he  has  frequently  been  charged  with  doing  evil  that  good 
might  come.  No  man,  however,  is  perfect,  and  the  friends  of 
Mr.  Wesley  may  feel  satisfied  with  the  admission  of  a  writer 
ho.^tile  to  him  and  the  sect  he  founded,  that  perhaps  not  another 
man  then  living  could  have  been  found,  who  would  have  ac- 
quitted himself  with  greater  credit  to  his  own  character,  and  to 
the  cause  in  vhich  he  was  engaged,  than  did  John  Wesley. 


GEORGE   WHITEFIELD 


^bl 


GEOKGE  WHITEFIELD. 


EORGE  WHITEFIELD,  the  famous  preacher, 
was  born  about  the  close  of  the  year  1714,  at 
Gloucester,  where  his  mother  kept  the  Bell 
Inn.  We  have  his  own  account  of  his  infancy. 
He  says  he  was  so  brutish  as  to  hate  instruc- 
tion, froward,  stealing  from  his  mother's  pocket, 
f^.  and  appropriating  to  his  own  use  the  money 
that  he  took  in  the  house.  Tracing  himself  from 
the  cradle  to  manhood,  he  could  see  in  himself 
nothing  but  a  fitness  to  be  damned  ;  and,  he  adds, 
if  the  Almighty  had  not  prevented  me  by  his 
grace,  I  had  now  either  been  sitting  in  darkness 
and  in  the  shadow  of  death,  or  condemned  as  the  due 
reward  of  my  crimes,  to  be  for  ever  lifting  up  my  eyes 
in  torments."  Withal,  he  had  a  devout  disposition 
and  a  tender  heart,  and  he  could  recollect  early  mov- 
ings  of  that  heart  which  satisfied  him,  in  after-life,  that  "  God 
loved  him  with  an  everlasting  love,  and  had  separated  him  even 
from  his  mother's  womb,  for  the  work  to  which  he  afterward 
was  pleased  to  call  him." 

When  he  was  about  ten  years  old,  his  mother  made  a  second, 
and  an  unhappy  marriage,  which  led  to  great  afliiction.  Amid 
their  distress,  his  brother  used  to  read  aloud  Bishop  Ken's 
manual  for  Winchester  Scholars,  which  affected  George  so  much 
that  he  desired  to  own  the  book.  He  was  then  attending  St. 
Mary  de  Crypt's  school,  and  the  corporation,  at  their  annual 
visit,  gave  him  some  money  for  the  speeches  he  was  chosen  to 
deliver.  This  was  immediately  expended  in  the  purchase  of 
Bishop  Ken's  book:  an  investment  which  he  found  of  great 
benefit  to  his  soul. 

The  elocutive  powers  of  the  lad  were  now  directed  toward  a 
point  rather  distant  from  the  pulpit.    The  boys  at  the  grammar- 


S^2  LIVES    OF    EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

school  were  fond  of  Thespian  entertainments,  and  their  master 
encouraged  them,  composing  a  dramatic  piece  for  them  himself, 
and  causing  them  to  enact  it  before  the  corporation.  White- 
field  was  assigned  a  woman's  part,  and  made  his  appearance  in 
girl's  cltth?s.  The  remembrance  of  this  folly  he  was  w^ont  to 
say,  had  often  covered  him  with  confusion  of  face,  and  he  hoped 
it  would  do  so  to  the  end  of  his  life.  Nevertheless,  he  owed 
much  of  his  attractive  manner  in  preaching,  to  his  early  attach- 
ment to  theatrical  entertainments :  and  while  he  denounced 
players  and  play-goers  from  the  sacred  desk,  he  gave,  though 
unconsciously  perhaps,  an  added  force  to  his  impassioned  words, 
by  oratorical  graces  and  winning  gestures  transferred  from  the 
stage  itself. 

A  curious  account  of  his  boyhood,  which  he  gave  in  one  of 
his  sermons,  will  show  how  deeply  rooted  was  his  early  love  of 
theatrical  entertainments.  "  When  I  wa^s  sixteen  years  of  age," 
he  says,  "I  began  to  fast  twice  a  week  for  thirty-six  hours 
together,  prayed  many  times  a  day,  received  the  sacrament 
every  Lord's  day,  fasting  myself  almost  to  death  all  the  forty 
days  of  Lent,  during  which  I  made  it  a  point  of  duty  never  tc 
go  less  than  three  times  a  day  to  public  worship,  besides  sever 
times  a  day  to  my  private  prayers ;  yet  I  knew  no  more  that 
I  was  to  be  born  again  in  God — born  a  new  creature  in  Christ 
Jesus — than  if  I  was  never  born  at  all.  I  had  a  mind  to  be 
upon  the  stage,  but  then  I  had  a  qualm  of  conscience ;  I  used 
to  ask  people,  'Pray,  can  I  be  a  player,  and  yet  go  to  the  sa- 
crament, and  be  a  Christian?'  'Oh!'  said  they,  'such  a  one, 
who  is  a  player,  goes  to  the  sacrament ;  though,  according  to 
the  law  of  the  land,  no  players  should  receive  the  sacrament, 
unless  they  give  proof  that  they  repent ;  this  w^as  Archbishop 
Tillotson's  doctrine.'  'Well,  then,  if  that  be  the  case,'  said  I, 
<  I  will  be  a  player.'  And  I  thought  to  act  my  part  for  the 
devil  as  well  as  anybody;  but,  blessed  be  God,  he  stopped  me 
in  my  journey." 

Before  he  was  fifteen,  he  persuaded  his  mother  to  take  him 
from  school,  because  she  could  not  send  him  to  the  university, 
and  to  have  more  learning  would  spoil  him  for  a  tradesman. 
So,  he  left  school,  and  came  to  assist  her  in  the  public  house, 
"clad  in  blue  apron  and  snuffers,  a  professed  and  common 
drjtv  , .'"     In  the  leisure  time  afforded  by  these  employments^ 


GEORGE   WHITEFIELD.  353 

be  composed  two  or  three  sermons,  and  pored  over  Thomas 
k  Kempis.  A  year  passed  in  this  employment,  when  the  inn 
was  made  over  to  a  married  brother.  George  could  not  agree 
with  his  sister-in-law,  so  he  soon  left  her  house,  went  to  live 
in  his  mother's  humble  home,  till  Providence  should  point  out 
some  course  for  him  to  follow.  The  example  of  an  acquaint- 
ance pointed  out  a  servitorship  in  college,  and  a  vigorous  effort 
on  the  part  of  his  friends  resulted  in  his  admission  to  Oxford 
in  that  capacity,  at  the  age  of  eighteen.  His  business  at  the 
inn  had  accustomed  him  to  waiting  on  others,  and  reconciled 
him  to  any  feelings  of  degradation  he  might  otherwise  have 
entertained  ab  ^ut  it,  and  in  consequence  he  was  found  ex- 
tremely useful  by  the  students,  who  gave  him  a  preference  over 
others.  He  was  thus  enabled  to  live  three  years  at  college, 
without  being  beholden  to  his  friends  for  more  than  four  and 
twenty  pounds. 

His  room  mates  were  addicted  to  riotous  living,  and  for  a 
considerable  time  tried  to  force  him  to  join  them.  He  could 
only  escape  from  them,  by  sitting  alone  in  his  study,  where  the 
cold  benumbed  him.  When  they  found  that  he  could  not  be 
induced  to  comply  with  their  requests,  their  persecutions  gave 
place  to  feelings  of  respect  for  his  strong  character,  ar^d  he 
was  allowed  to  do  as  he  pleased.  Before  he  went  to  Oxford, 
he  had  heard  of  the  young  men  there,  who  lived  "  by  rule  and 
method,"  and  were  therefore  called  Methodists,  and  very  gene- 
rally despised.  He,  however,  felt  himself  drawn  toward  them, 
and  when  he  heard  them  reviled,  defended  them  strenuously. 
Seeing  them  going  to  receive  the  sacrament  at  St.  Mary's  in 
the  midst  of  a  ridiculing  crowd,  he  was  strongly  minded  to  fol- 
low them,  and  for  more  than  a  year  he  yearned  after  fellowship 
with  them,  but  was  kept  back  by  a  sense  of  inferior  condition. 
At  length,  a  pauper  committed  suicide,  and  Whitefield  sent  a 
woman  to  Charles  Wesley,  to  request  him  to  come  and  minister 
spiritual  medicine  to  the  sufferer.  She  was  charged  not  to  say 
who  sent  her,  but  she  disobeyed  and  told  his  name,  and  Wesley, 
who  had  heard  of  him  before,  invited  him  to  breakfast  next 
morning.  An  introduction  to  the  little  band  followed,  and 
Whitefield  also  began  to  live  by  rule,  and  to  pick  up  the  very 
fragments  of  his  time,  that  not  a  moment  of  it  might  be  lost. 
At  this  time,  also,  Charles  Wesley  put  into  his  hands  a  volume, 
45  2g2 


354  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTLANS. 

entitled,  the  '^Life  of  God  in  the  Soul  of  Man,"  whereby,  says 
Whitefield,  "  God  showed  me  that  I  must  be  born  again,  or  be 
damned." 

He  continued  at  Oxford,  after  the  Wesleys  had  gone  to  Ame- 
rica, until  his  great  devotional  excesses,  if  they  may  be  so 
called,  broke  down  his  health,  and  laid  him  upon  a  bed  of  long 
and  wearisome  sickness.  He  was  obliged  to  go  to  the  country 
to  recruit  his  strength,  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  leave  his  bed, 
and  there  he  attracted  the  notice  of  Dr.  Benson,  Bishop  of 
Gloucester,  who  sent  for  him,  and  voluntarily  offered  him  ordi- 
nation, whenever  he  should  choose  to  -accept  it.  Whitefield  felt 
a  praiseworthy  fear  and  hesitancy  about  undertaking  this  sacred 
ofiice,  but  the  encouragement  of  the  bishop  and  the  persuasions 
of  his  friends  determined  him,  and  he  was  ordained  in  such  a 
spirit,  that  he  thought  he  could  call  heaven  and  earth  to  wit- 
ness, that  when  the  bishop  laid  his  hand  upon  him,  he  gave  him- 
self up  to  be  a  martyr  for  Him  who  had  hung  upon  the  cross 
for  him.     His  whole  subsequent  life  proves  his  sincerity. 

He  had  one  sermon,  and  five  guineas  w^hich  the  good  bishop 
gave  him,  at  the  commencement  of  his  career.  He  loaned  his 
sermon  to  a  neighbouring  clergyman,  to  convince  him  how  unfit 
he  was  for  preaching.  The  clergyman  divided  it  into  two, 
preached  it  morning  and  evening  to  his  congregation,  and  re- 
turned it  with  a  guinea  for  its  use.  Encouraged  by  this,  ^Yhite- 
field  appeared  with  this  same  sermon  in  the  pulpit  of  the  church 
of  St.  Mary  de  Crypt,  where  he  had  been  baptized,  and  where 
he  had  first  received  the  sacrament.  Curiosity  brought  toge- 
ther a  large  congregation,  and  the  youthful  minister,  kindling 
with  a  sense  of  the  Divine  presence  as  he  went  on,  spake  with 
a  degree  of  gospel  authority  which  astonished  his  audience.  A 
few  mocked  him,  but  the  great  majority  were  sensibly  impressed, 
and  complaint  was  made  to  the  bishop,  that  fifteen  persons  had 
been  driven  mad  by  the  sermon.  The  worthy  prelate  hoped 
they  would  not  forget  their  madness  before  the  next  Sabbath. 

Goin^  back  to  Oxford,  he  took  his  degree,  and  employed 
himself  in  visiting  the  prisons,  and  the  charity  schools  esta- 
blished by  the  Methodists.  He  was  soon  summoned  to  officiate 
at  the  Tower  Chapel  in  London,  during  the  absence  of  the 
curate,  and  though  the  congregation  seemed  disposed  to  sneer 
at  him  when  he  first  entered  the  pulpit,  they  grew  serious  at 


GEORGE   \>H1TEFIELD.  355 

his  discourse,  and  during  the  two  months  he  continuod  to  offi- 
ciate in  London,  people  came  from  all  parts  of  the  city  to  hear 
him,  and  the  chapel  was  crowded  whenever  he  preached.  He 
returned  to  Oxford  again,  where  the  society  grew  under  his 
care.  After  a  while,  Mr.  Kinchin,  the  minister  of  Dummer, 
in  Hampshire,  wishing  to  come  to  Oxford  to  be  a  candidate  for 
dean  of  Corpus  Christi  college,  invited  Whitefield  to  take  charge 
of  his  parish  during  his  absence.  He  found  the  people  poor 
and  illiterate,  and  felt  at  first  like  mourning  for  the  loss  of  his 
Oxford  friends,  but  when  he  came  to  engage  in  the  same  round 
of  duties  that  Mr.  Kinchin  had  followed,  and  thus  learned  how 
zealous  he  had  been,  and  how  his  congregation  had  been  trained, 
he  found  his  time  fully  occupied,  and  he  learned  to  love  those 
he  laboured  for,  and  derived  a  greater  improvement  from  their 
society  than  books  could  have  given  him. 

When  Mr.  Kinchin  was  elected  dean,  Mr.  Hervey  was  ready 
to  take  his  place  in  the  curacy,  and  Whitefield,  relieved  of  the 
charge,  felt  the  heart-yearning  he  had  long  had  of  assisting  the 
Wesleys  in  Georgia,  ripen  into  a  purpose  of  going  thither.  At 
Gloucester,  he  bade  his  friends  farewell,  and  received  the  bless- 
ing of  the  good  bishop.  Thence  he  went  to  Bristol,  where  he 
was  received  in  high  honour.  The  mayor  appointed  him  to 
preach  before  the  corporation.  Quakers,  Baptists,  Presbyterians, 
all  denominations,  flocked  to  hear  him,  and  the  church  was 
crowded  on  week-days,  while  on  the  Sabbath  day  multitudes  were 
disappointed  of  hearing  him  for  want  of  room.  At  London  he 
was  accepted  by  General  Oglethorpe  and  the  trustees  of  the 
colony,  and  presented  to  the  Bishop  of  London  and  the  primate. 
The  vessel  in  which  he  was  to  sail,  being  likely  to  be  detained 
for  some  months,  he  went  to  serve  the  church  of  a  friend  at 
Stonehouse,  in  his  native  county ;  thence  he  went  to  Bristol 
again,  where  multitudes  came  out  of  the  city,  on  foot  and  in 
coaches,  to  meet  him,  and  blessed  him  as  he  passed  along  the 
street.  He  preached  five  times  a  week  to  such  congregations 
that  he  could  hardly  make  his  way  along  the  crowded  aisles  to 
the  desk  Some  hung  upon  the  rails  of  the  organ  loft,  others 
climbed  upon  the  leads  of  the  church,  and  altogether  made  the 
church  so  hot  with  their  breath,  that  the  steam  would  fall  from 
the  pillars  like  drops  of  rain.  When  he  preached  his  farewell 
sermon,  and  said  to  the   people  that  perhaps  they  would  see 


356  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

his  face  no  more,  high  and  low,  young  and  old,  burst  into 
■'.ears.  He  left  Bristol  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  to  avoid 
the  ceremony  of  an  escort  by  horsemen  and  coaches  out  of  the 
city.  To  London,  whither  he  went,  the  popular  regard  followed 
him.  When  he  administered  the  sacrament,  fresh  elements  had 
to  be  consecrated  two  or  three  times.  The  churches  were  opened 
on  week-days,  and  constables  stood  at  the  doors  to  pre  rent  too 
great  multitudes  from  forcing  their  way  into  the  building.  On 
Sunday  mornings,  in  the  latter  months  of  the  year,  the  streets 
were  filled  with  people  with  lanterns,  going  to  secure  a  place  to 
hear  him.  The  nearer  the  time  of  his  departure  arrived,  the 
more  intense  these  feelings  became.  They  stopped  him  in  the 
aisles  and  embraced  him ;  they  waited  on  him  at  his  lodgings, 
entreating  him  to  write  their  names  with  his  own  hand,  and 
begging  other  mementos  of  him,  and  when  he  preached  his  fare- 
well sermon  the  whole  audience  was  in  tears.  He  resided  three 
months  in  America,  discharging  his  duty  with  fervour  and  plain- 
ness, happy  in  his  exile,  and  contented  to  remain  there.  He 
was  obliged,  however,  to  return  to  England  to  receive  priest's 
orders,  and  to  collect  contributions  for  founding  and  supporting 
an  orphan  house  in  the  colony.  His  return  voyage  lasted  nine 
weeks  and  three  days.  They  had  been  long  on  short  allowance, 
exhausted  their  last  cask  of  water,  and  were  in  the  extremes 
of  distress  and  bewilderment,  when  the  vessel  made  Limerick 
harbour.  Whitefield  came  at  once  to  London,  waited  on  the 
bishop  and  primate,  who  received  him  favourably,  and  highly 
approved  his  designs  respecting  his  charge  in  Georgia,  hoping 
thus  to  fix  him  in  America,  where  his  enthusiasm  could  not  in- 
terfere with  their  ease.  The  trustees  presented  him  with  the 
living  of  Savannah,  and  the  good  Bishop  Benson,  who  had  or- 
dained him  deacon,  now  introduced  him  into  priest's  orders. 
The  business  of  raising  money  for  the  orphan  house,  however, 
detained  him  in  England,  and  he  resumed  the  labours  which 
had  been  broken  off  by  his  departure  for  America.  His  popu- 
larity was  as  great  as  ever.  One  day,  preaching  at  Bermondsey 
church,  he  knew  that  nearly  one  thousand  people  stood  outside, 
anable  to  obtain  admittance,  and  he  felt  a  strong  inclination  to 
go  out  and  preach  from  the  tombstones.  This  inclination  led  to 
a  determination  to  adopt  the  system  of  preaching  in  the  fields, 
vnd  it  was  soon  commenced  in  Kingswood,  near  Bristol,  a  tract 


GEORGE   WHITEFIELD.  S57 

of  country  so  abounding  in  low  and  degraded  beings,  principally 
colliers,  in  the  most  abject  state  of  poverty  and  brutality,  that 
when  Whitefield  first  announced  his  intention  of  going  to  America 
to  convert  the  Indians,  many  of  his  friends  said,  "What  need 
of  going  abroad  for  this  ?  Have  we  not  Indians  enough  at 
home  ?  If  you  have  a  mind  to  convert  Indians,  there  are  col- 
liers enough  in  Kingswood."  To  these  benighted  souls  he  had 
long  yearned  to  open  the  light  of  heavenly  truth,  and  they  had 
no  churches.  He  came  among  them  and  preached  one  day 
without  notice.  His  audience  then  numbered  about  two  hun- 
dred. The  second  time  he  preached,  two  thousand  persons  had 
assembled  to  hear  him,  the  third  audience  numbered  between 
four  and  five  thousand,  and  they  went  on  increasing  until  they 
were  estimated  at  more  than  twenty  thousand.  Meanwhile  the 
clerical  authorities  had  taken  offence  at  him,  and  would  no  longer 
permit  him  to  preach  in  the  churches,  so  that  what  he  had 
adopted  of  choice,  was  now  become  a  matter  of  necessity. 
"The  sun,"  says  Whitefield,  alluding  to  one  of  these  meetings, 
"shone  very  bright,  and  the  people  standing  in  such  an  awful 
manner  around  the  mount  in  the  profoundest  silence,  filled  me 
with  a  holy  admiration."  On  another  occasion,  "The  trees  and 
hedo'es  were  full.  All  was  hushed  when  I  beo;an  :  the  sun  shone 
bright,  and  God  enabled  me  to  preach  for  an  hour  with  great 
power,  and  so  loud,  that  all,  I  was  told,  could  hear  me.  Blessed 
be  God,  Mr.  spoke  right ;  the  fire  is  kindled  in  the  coun- 
try.'' The  silence  of  these  motley  multitudes  proved  the  power 
of  the  preacher  over  them,  and  gave  him  increased  confidence, 
but  when  he  saw  the  white  gutters  made  by  the  tears  that  fell 
plentifully  down  their  black  cheeks,  black  as  they  came  out  of 
the  coal  pits,  his  thankful  heart  was  full ;  gratitude  overcame 
him. 

Feeling  the  necessity  of  preparing  for  his  return  to  America, 
AVhitefield  sent  for  John  Wesley  and  invited  him  to  continue  the 
system  begun  at  Bristol.  Wesley,  after  some  hesitancy,  con- 
sented, and  Whitefield  came  to  London,  where  he  attacked  Sa- 
tan in  his  stronghold,  by  preaching  in  the  open  air  in  the  suburbs 
of  Moorfields,  then  the  great  resort  of  the  idle,  the  dissolute, 
the  profligate,  and  the  criminal.  The  same  success  attended  his 
preaching  here  as  elsewhere,  and  many  souls  were  reclaimed 
from  their  evil  ways.     Amid  all  his  success,  Whitefield  never 


858  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

forgot  that  he  was  the  pastor  of  a  little  parish  in  Georgia,  and 
the  raising  of  money  to  build  an  orphan  house  there,  the  prin- 
cipal business  he  had  in  England.  This  was  so  far  accomplished, 
that  he  was  able  to  set  sail  for  America  on  the  14th  of  August, 
1739.  He  arrived  in  Philadelphia  early  in  November  of  that 
year,  and  was  at  once  invited  to  preach  in  the  churches.  But 
no  church  could  hold  the  crowds  that  assembled  to  hear  him ;  so 
he  chose  the  gallery  of  the  little  court-house  for  a  pulpit,  and 
his  audiences  stood  around  in  the  open  space  in  front.  Leav- 
ing Philadelphia,  he  preached  a  while  in  New  York,  and 
then  went  south  to  Savannah,  preaching  continually,  wherever 
he  came,  with  the  most  happy  efifect.  He  arrived  at  Sa- 
vannah, in  January,  1740,  and  on  the  25th  of  March  he  laid 
the  foundation  of  his  orphan  house,  which  he  called  Be- 
thesda,  the  House  of  Mercy.  He  then  set  forth  on  a  journey 
of  solicitation,  and  came  by  sea  to  Philadelphia,  where  a  paper 
of  the  day  states,  that  he  preached  to  an  audience  of  fifteen 
thousand  persons  on  a  Sabbath,  and  gives  appointments  for  his 
preaching  in  all  the  towns  near  that  city.  He  returned  to 
Georgia  again  before  he  went  to  New  England,  having  collected 
in  Pennsylvania  and  the  neighbouring  provinces  about  four 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  for  his  orphans  in  Georgia.  On  his 
return  he  became  involved  in  a  controversy  with  Mr.  Garden, 
the  rector  of  St.  Philip's  church,  at  Charleston,  who  was  the 
commissary  or  deputy  of  the  Bishop  of  London  for  South 
Carolina.  The  dispute  was  carried  on  with  great  violence  by 
Mr.  Garden,  who  preached  a  sermon,  when  Whitefield  was  one 
of  his  hearers,  in  which  he  drew  a  parallel  between  him  and  all 
the  Oliverians,  Ranters,  Quakers,  French  Prophets,  till  he  came 
down  to  a  family  of  Dutartes,  who  had  lived  some  years  before 
in  South  Carolina,  and  were  guilty  of  the  most  notorious  incests 
and  murders.  "  Had  some  infernal  spirit  been  sent  to  draw  my 
picture,"  says  Whitefield,  "I  think  it  scarcely  possible  that  he 
could  paint  me  in  more  horrid  colours.  I  think,  if  ever,  then  was 
the  time  that  all  manner  of  evil  was  spoken  falsely  against  me  for 
Christ's  sake."  Whitefield  was  summoned  to  appear  before  the 
commissary,  as  the  head  of  an  ecclesiastical  tribunal,  to  answer 
certain  articles,  '^to  be  objected  and  ministered  unto  him  con- 
cerning the  mere  health  of  his  soul,  and  the  reformation  and 
^.orrectioa  of  his  manners  and  excesses."  He  appeared  on  the 
lay  named,  and  the  first  court  of  this  kiod  ever  held  in  America 


GEOEGE   WHITEFIELD.  359 

commenced  its  proceedings.    After  committing  several  blunders 

on  both  sides,  by  way  of  showing  their  ignorance  of  the  business, 
the  court  adjourned  till  nine  o'clock  next  morning,  to  give  Mr. 
Whitefield  time  to  inform  himself  of  the  extent  of  the  jurisdic- 
tion of  the  bishop  and  his  commissary.  How  intently  he 
studied  the  subject  may  be  imagined  from  the  fact  that  he 
preached  twice  during  the  remainder  of  the  day.  On  the  fol- 
lowing morning  Mr.  Graham  appeared  as  prosecuting  attorney, 
and  Mr.  Rutledge  as  counsel  for  the  respondent.  Whitefield 
made  some  mistakes,  but  hints  from  his  quick-sighted  counsel, 
and  his  own  adroitness,  saved  him  from  their  consequences. 
Once  his  indignation  broke  forth,  and  he  read  the  court  a  severe 
lecture  on  their  meanness  in  catching  at  a  word  as  soon  as  it 
was  out  of  his  mouth,  without  allowing  him  time  to  correct  it. 
He  filed  an  objection  to  be  judged  by  the  commissary,  who,  he 
alleged  was  prejudiced  against  him.  New  questions  arose  upon 
this,  and  the  court  adjourned  until  the  following  morning. 
Whitefield  went  to  James's  Island,  read  prayers  and  preached. 
In  court  next  day,  he  found  that  his  exceptions  were  overruled, 
and  then  he  appealed  to  the  High  Court  of  Chancery  in  Lon- 
don, declaring  all  further  proceedings  at  Charleston  to  be  null 
and  void ;  and  then  be  read  letters  which  refreshed  his  spirit, 
by  informing  him  "  how  mightily  the  word  of  God  grew  and 
prevailed"  at  Philadelphia,  and  that  Mr.  Bolton,  in  Georgia, 
had  near  fifty  negroes  learning  to  read.  The  appeal  was  never 
tried.  The  dignitaries  in  London  seemed  to  think  it  a  profit- 
less business,  and  contrived  to  let  it  die  of  neglect. 

In  the  fall  of  this  year  he  was  engaged  labouring  in  New 
England,  preaching  everywhere  with  success,  particularly  at 
Boston,  and  in  the  colleges  at  Cambridge  and  New  Haven.  Re- 
turning to  New  York  and  Philadelphia,  he  sailed  from  the  Del- 
aware to  Charleston,  and  reached  Savannah  on  the  20th  of 
December.  On  his  way  back,  he  thus  sums  up  his  labours. 
«4lt  is  the  seventy-fifth  day  since  I  arrived  at  Rhode  Island. 
My  body  was  then  weak,  but  the  Lord  has  much  renewed  its 
strength.  I  have  been  enabled  to"  preach  one  hundred  and 
seventy-five  times  in  public,  besides  exhorting  very  frequently 
in  private.  I  have  travelled  upwards  of  eight  hundred  miles, 
and  gotten  upwards  of  seven  hundred  pounds  sterling  in  goods, 
provisions,  and  money  for  my  poor  orphans.  Having  arranged 
the  affairs  of  the  orphan  house,  he  preached  a  farewell  sermou, 


360  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

and  left  Savannah  for  the  purpose  of  embarking  for  England. 
On  the  twenty-fourth  of  January,  1741,  he  crossed  Charleston 
bar,  on  the  eleventh  of  March,  arrived  at  Falmouth,  whence  he 
rode  post  to  London,  and  on  the  next  Sabbath  preached  Ln  Ken- 
nington  Common. 

Before  sailing  to  America,  he  had  become  impressed  with 
Calvinistic  views,  which  had  brought  about  a  partial  separation 
between  him  and  Mr.  Wesley,  and  subsequent  occurrences  tended 
to  widen  the  breach.  Whitefield  had  besought  Wesley  not  to 
preach  against  election,  as  he,  though  he  believed  it,  would  not 
preach  in  favour  of  it,  that  they  might  not  become  divided 
among  themselves.  Wesley  had  recourse  to  sortilege,  and  the 
lot  he  drew  was,  '<  preach  and  print."  He  preached  at  once, 
but  did  not  print  till  after  the  departure  of  Whitefield,  who 
answered  his  publication  by  a  letter  from  Bethesda,  in  Georgia. 
This  reply  was  written  in  very  bad  taste,  and  its  publication 
made  its  author  many  enemies.  The  Wesleys,  by  their  power- 
ful preaching  and  incessant  exertions  brought  nearly  the  whole 
body  of  the  Methodists  over  to  their  views,  and  this,  with  two 
ill-judged  attacks  made  by  Whitefield  on  England's  greatest 
favourites— "The  Whole  Duty  of  Man"  and  Archbishop  Tillot- 
son — left  Whitefield  nearly  destitute  of  the  popularity  he  had 
previously  acquired.  His  whole  work  was  to  begin  again,  and  he 
commenced  it  immediately,  preaching  at  first  to  one  or  two  hun- 
dred persons,  but  still  preaching  until  his  audiences  were  scarcely 
less  numerous  than  formerly.  At  the  invitation  of  some  of  his 
friends  in  Scotland,  he  went  to  Edinburgh,  and  thence  to  many 
places  in  that  kingdom,  preaching  the  gospel,  without  allying 
himself  to  any  sect  or  clique,  and  always  with  power,  commenc 
ing  a  revival,  which  was  continued  by  zealous  labourers  after 
his  departure  with  the  most  happy  results. 

Leaving  Edinburgh  in  October,  he  passed  into  Wales,  where 
he  was  married,  and  thence  to  London,  where  he  arrived  early 
in  December,  1741.  Whitefield  had  previously  determined  to 
enter  the  married  state  in  America,  and  wrote  to  the  parents 
of  the  lady  he  was  disposed  to  choose  a  characteristic  letter, 
enclosing  one  to  herself,  in  which  she  was  invited'to  partake  of 
a  way  of  life  which  nothing  but  devotion  and  enthusiasm  like 
his  could  render  endurable.  He  said  that  he  much  liked  the 
manner  of  Isaac's  marriage  with  Rebecca ;  and  thought  no  mar- 


GEORGE    WPIITEFIELD.  861 

riage  could  succeed  well  unless  both  parties  were  like-minded 
with  Tobias  and  his  wife.  In  conclusion,  he  requested  that  if 
she  thought  marriage  would  be  prejudicial  to  her  better  part, 
to  be  so  kind  as  to  send  him  a  denial.  In  reply,  he  was  informed 
that  she  was  in  a  seeking  state  only ;  and  surely,  he  said,  that 
would  not  do  ;  he  must  have  one  full  of  faith  and  the  Holy 
Ghost.  Such  a  wife  he  thought  he  had  now  discovered  in  a 
widow,  named  James,  at  Abergavenny,  who  was  between  thirty 
and  forty;  neither  rich  nor  beautiful,  but  having  once  been  gay, 
was  now  a  despised  follower  of  the  Lamb.  His  marriage,  how- 
ever, was  unhappy,  and  the  interference  of  others  so  increased 
his  domestic  difficulties,  that  one  of  his  friends  says  that  the 
death  of  his  wife  "set  his  mind  much  at  liberty." 

His  popularity,  meanwhile,  increased  steadily,  and  he  was 
bold  enough  to  attack  Satan  in  his  stronghold  by  preaching  in 
Moorfields  duriiig  the  Whitsun-holidays.  It  was  a  pitched  bat- 
tle, and  lasted  until  night.  Whitefield  displayed  greit  general- 
ship. He  began  at  six  in  the  morning,  when  some  ten  thousand 
people  were  assembled,  waiting  for  the  sports  to  commence.  He 
was  attended  by  a  guard  of  praying  people,  and  when  he  began 
the  crowd  flocked  around  his  pulpit.  Thus  he  had  for  once  got 
the  start  of  the  devil,  and  he  maintained  his  advantage  all  day, 
preaching  three  times,  in  spite  of  drummers,  trumpeters,  merry- 
andrews,  puppet-show  men,  players,  keepers  of  wild  beasts,  and 
their  friends.  Stones,  dirt,  rotten  eggs,  and  pieces  of  dead  cats 
and  other  animals  were  frequently  thrown  at  him,  and  a  recruit- 
ing sergeant  marched  his  men  through  the  midst  of  the  audi- 
ence ill  the  hope  of  making  a  disturbance.  Whitefield  requested 
his  people  to  fall  back  and  make  way  for  the  king's  officers,  and 
then  close  up  again.  This  manoeuvre  baffled  the  enemy.  An- 
other part  of  the  preacher's  tactics  was  very  efiective.  His 
voice  was  like  a  trumpet,  but  sometimes  the  uproar  became  so 
great  that  he  could  not  be  heard,  and  then  he  called  the  pray- 
ing people  to  his  aid,  and  they  all  began  singing ;  and  so  singing, 
and  praying,  and  preaching,  he  kept  the  field.  In  this  strange 
warfare  he  produced  a  very  great  impression.  More  than  a 
thousand  notes  were  handed  up  to  him  by  persons  who  were 
"brought  under  concern"  by  his  preaching  that  day,  and  three 
hundred  and  fifty  persons  joined  his  congregation.  On  the 
next  day  he  fought  a  similar  battle  with  Satan  in  Mary-le-bone 
46*  2  H 


362  LIVES    OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

fields,  a  place  of  similar  resort.  On  the  third  day  he  returned 
to  Moorfields  and  preached,  if  possible,  with  greater  effect  than 
on  the  first. 

His  regular  place  of  preaching  was  at  the  Tabernacle,  a  build- 
ing so  called  from  its  temporary  nature,  erected  soon  after  his 
separation  from  Wesley  by  his  friends.  Here  he  was  assisted 
by  Cennick  and  others,  and  the  patronage  and  zeal  of  Selina, 
Countess  of  Huntingdon,  made  Calvinistic  Methodism  to  be 
irabodied  into  a  separate  sect.  She  made  Whitefield  her  chap- 
lain, and  he  induced  her  to  become,  what  she  was  well-fitted  to 
be,  the  head  of  the  church  he  was  founding.  She  built  chapels 
in  many  places,  and  employed  Calvinistic  clergymen  to  officiate 
in  them,  and  at  length  set  up  a  seminary  for  educating  such  at 
Trevecca,  in  South  Wales.  These  chapels  were  called  Lady 
Huntingdon's  chapels ;  the  preachers  Lady  Huntingdon's  preach- 
ers; and  the  college  Lady  Huntingdon's  college..  To  crown  the 
whole,  the  Calvinistic  Methodists  went  by  the  name  of  Lady 
Huntingdon's  connection. 

In  1762,  Whitefield  went  again  to  Scotland,  and  with  the 
able  and  willing  co-labourers  there,  he  set  the  country  in  a  state 
of  excitement  such  as  the  cool-blooded  inhabitants  had  never 
dreamed  of.  ''Besides  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow,"  says  Gillies, 
"it  is  really  wonderful  to  think  how  many  places  in  the  west 
of  Scotland  he  visited  within  a  few  weeks,  preaching  at  every 
one  of  them."     In  November  he  was  again  at  London. 

During  all  this  time,  Whitefield  had  continued  to  correspond 
with  the  Wesleys,  and  they  occasionally  preached  in  each  other's 
pulpits.  Each  did  justice  to  what  he  knew  was  good  and  noble 
in  the  character  of  the  other,  and  there  was  a  rivalry  between 
them  in  forgiving  injuries  committed  in  hot  blood,  and  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  promptings  of  the  true  heart  within.  When  White- 
field  returned  from  America  to  England,  for  the  last  time, 
Wesley  visited  him,.  October,  1765,  and  gives  an  account  of  the 
interview  in  his  journal. 

"I  breakfasted,"  he  observes,  "with  Mr.  Whitefield,  who 
seemed  to  be  an  old,  old  man,  being  fairly  worn  out  in  his  Mas- 
ter's servi';e,  though  he  has  hardly  seen  fifty  years.  And  yet 
it  pleases  God,  that  I,  who  am  now  in  my  sixty-third  year,  find 
no  disorder,  no  weakness,  no  decay,  no  difference  from  what  I 
was  at  five  and  twenty:  only  that  I  have  fewer  teeth,  and  more 


GEORGE   WHITLr'IELD.  363 

gray  hairs:"  Soon  after,  he  adds,  "Mr.  Whitefield  called  upon 
me ;  he  breathes  nothing  but  peace  and  love.  Bigotry  cannot 
stand  before  him,  but  hides  its  head  wherever  he  comes." 

The  history  of  Mr.  Whitefield's  labours  is  unparalleled.  They 
continued  till  his  death,  and  were  always  effective.  He  made 
many  opponents,  and  these  often  convicted  him  of  gross  errors  j 
but  he  thanked  them  so  earnestly  when  they  showed  him  his 
faults,  acknowledged  them,  and  endeavoured  to  avoid  them  in 
the  future  with  so  much  success,  that  those  most  embittered 
against  him  learned  to  respect  and  love  him. 

His  death  took  place  at  Newburyport,  while  on  a  visit  to 
New  England,  in  1770.  He  wished  for  a  sudden  death,  and 
his  desire  was  in  some  degree  vouchsafed  to  him.  His  illness 
was  but  of  few  hours'  duration.  When  he  was  first  seized  with 
it,  one  of  his  friends  expressed  a  wish  that  he  would  not  preach 
so  often.  He  answered  that  he  had  rather  wear  out  than  rust 
out.  He  was  buried  in  the  Presbyterian  church  in  Newbury  port, 
before  the  pulpit.  Every  mark  of  respect  was  shown  to  his 
remains.  All  the  bells  in  town  tolled,  and  the  ships  in  the  har- 
bour fired  mourning  guns,  and  hung  their  flags  at  half  mast. 
In  Georgia,  all  the  black  cloth  in  the  stores  was  bought  up,  and 
the  church  was  hung  in  black ;  the  governor  and  the  council 
met  at  the  state-house  in  deep  mourning,  and  went  in  a  proces- 
sion to  hear  a  funeral  sermon.  Funeral  sermons  were  preached 
in  all  the  tabernacles  in  England,  and  John  Wesley  preached 
several  of  them,  wishing  he  said  to  show  all  possible  respect  to 
the  memory  of  so  great  and  so  good  a  man.  Of  the  sects  which 
were  benefited  by  his  labours,  the  Presbyterians  in  America 
undoubtedly  reaped  the  greatest  advantages,  if  indeed  their 
whole  success  is  not  to  be  attributed  to  his  agency.  But  who 
shall  attempt  to  estimate  the  number  of  those  who  were  awakened 
by  his  burning  words  to  a  sense  of  their  religious  wants,  and 
encouraged  by  him  to  come  to  Him,  who  gives  us  our  daily  bread, 
to  have  them  supplied. 

Scores  of  men,  who  have  since  become  shining  lights  in  the 
Lord's  ministry  on  earth,  date  their  first  religious  impressions 
at  the  time  of  hearing  Whitefield,  and  the  name  of  those  who 
have  blessed  his  memory  as  they  felt  the  benefits  of  a  religious 
faith  in  the  hour  of  death,  is  legion. 


864 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 


CHRISTIAN  SCHWARTZ. 


UMEROUS  able  and  good  men  have  devoted 
themselves  to  the  cause  of  missions,  and  none 
with  more  distinguished  success  than  he  who 
has  been  called  the  Apostle  of  the  East,  Chris- 
tian Schwartz.      The    saying  of  an  eminent 
missionary,  who  preached  to  a  far  different 
people,  the  stern  and  high-minded  Indians  of 
North   America,  is   exemplified  in    his    life, — 
«'  Prayer  a.nd  pains,  through  faith,  will  do  any 
thing."     For  years  Schwartz  laboured  in  obscu- 
rity, with  few  scattered   and  broken   rays  of  en- 
couragement to  cheer  his  way.    But  his  patience,  his 
integrity,  his  unwearied  benevolence,  his   sincerity 
and  unblemished  purity  of  life,  won  a  hearing  for  his 
Avords  of  doctrine  ;  and  he  was  rewarded  at  last  by  a 
more  extended  empire  in  the  hearts  of  the  Hindoos, 
both  heathen   and  convert,  than  perhaps  any  other  European 
has  obtained. 

Christian  Frederic  Schwartz  was  born  at  Sonnenburg,  in  the 
Kew  Mark,  Germany,  October  26,  1726.  His  mother  died 
while  he  was  very  young,  and,  in  dying,  devoted  the  child,  in 
the  presence  of  her  husband  and  her  spiritual  guide,  to  the  ser- 
vice of  God,  exacting  from  both  of  them  a  promise  that  they 
would  use  every  means  for  the  accomplishment  of  this,  her  last 
and  earnest  wish.  Schw^artz  received  his  education  at  the 
schools  of  Sonnenburg  and  Custrin.  He  grew  up  a  serious  and 
well-disposed  boy,  much  under  the  influence  of  religious  im- 
pressions; and  a  train  of  fortunate  circumstances  deepened 
those  impressions,  at  a  time  when  the  vivacity  of  youth,  and  the 
excitement  of  secular  pursuits,  had  nearly  withdrawn  him  from 
the  career  to  which  he  was  dedicated.  When  about  twenty 
years  of  age  he  entered  the  University  of  Halle,  where  he  ob- 


CHRISTIAN   SCHWARTZ.  365 

tained  the  fviendship  of  one  of  the  professors,  Herman  Francke, 
a  warm  and  generous  supporter  of  the  missionary  cause.  While 
resident  at  Halle,  Schwartz,  together  with  another  student,  was 
appointed  to  learn  the  Tamul  or  Malabar  language,  in  order  to 
superintend  the  printing  of  a  Bible  in  that  tongue.  His  labour 
was  not  thrown  away,  though  the  proposed  edition  never  was 
completed ;  for  it  led  Francke  to  propose  to  him  that  he  should 
go  out  to  India  as  a  missionary.  The  suggestion  suited  his  ar- 
dent and  laborious  character,  and  was  at  once  accepted.  The 
appointed  scene  of  his  labours  was  Tranquebar,  on  the  Coro- 
mandel  coast,  the  seat  of  a  Danish  mission  ;  and,  after  repair- 
ing to  Copenhagen  for  ordination,  he  embarked  from  London 
for  India,  January  21,  1750,  and  reached  Tranquebar  in  July. 
It  is  seldom  that  the  life  of  one  employed  in  advocating  the 
faith  of  Christ  presents  much  of  adventure,  except  from  the 
fiery  trials  of  persecution ;  or  much  of  interest,  except  to  those 
who  will  enter  into  the  missionary's  chief  joy  or  sorrow,  the 
success  or  inefficiency  of  his  preaching.  From  persecution 
Schwartz's  whole  life  was  free ;  his  difficulties  did  not  proceed 
from  bigoted  or  interested  zeal,  but  from  the  apathetic  subtlety 
of  his  Hindoo  hearers,  ready  to  listen,  slow  to  be  convinced, 
enjoying  the  mental  sword-play  of  hearing,  and  answering,  and 
being  confuted,  and  renewing  the  same  or  similar  objections  at 
the  next  meeting,  as  if  the  preacher's  former  labours  had  not 
been.  The  latter  part  of  his  life  was  possessed  of  active  in- 
terest ;  for  he  was  no  stranger  to  the  court  or  the  camp ;  and 
his  known  probity  and  truthfulness  won  for  him  the  confidence 
of  three  most  dissimilar  parties,  a  suspicious  tyrant,  an  op- 
pressed people,  and  the  martial  and  diplomatic  directors  of  the 
British  empire  in  India.  But  the  early  years  of  his  abode  in 
India  possess  interest  neither  from  the  marked  success  of  his 
preaching,  nor  from  his  commerce  with  the  busy  scenes  of  con- 
quest and  negotiation.  For  sixteen  years  he  resided  chiefly  at 
Tranquebar,  a  member  of  the  mission  to  which  he  was  first 
attached  ;  but  at  the  end  of  that  time,  in  1766,  he  transferred 
his  services  to  the  Society  for  promoting  Christian  Knowledge, 
with  which  he  acted  until  death,  and  to  which  the  care  of  the 
Danish  mission  at  Tranquebar  was  soon  after  transferred.  He 
had  already,  in  1765,  established  a  church  and  school  at  Trit- 
chinopoly,  and  in  that  town  he  now  took  up  his  abode,  holding 

2h2 


366  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

the  offir^e  of  chaplain  to  the  garrison,  for  which  he  received  a  sa- 
lary of  ^100  yearly.  This  entire  sum  he  devoted  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  mission. 

For  several  years  Schwartz  resided  principally  at  Tritchino- 
poly,  visiting  other  places,  from  time  to  time,  especially  Tan- 
jore,  where  his  labours  ultimately  had  no  small  effect.  He  was 
heard  with  attention;  he  was  everywhere  received  with  respect; 
for  the  Hindoos  could  not  but  admire  the  beauty  of  his  life, 
though  it  failed  to  win  souls  to  his  preaching.  ^'  The  fruit,"  he 
said,  '<  will  perhaps  appear  when  I  am  at  rest."  He  had,  how- 
ever the  pleasure  of  seeing  some  portion  of  it  ripen,  for  in 
more  than  one  place  a  small  congregation  grew  gradually  up 
under  his  care.  His  toil  was  lightened  and  cheered  in  1777, 
when  another  missionary  was  sent  to  his  assistance  from  Tran- 
quebar.  Already  he  had  derived  help  from  some  of  his  more 
advanced  converts,  who  acted  as  catechists,  for  the  instruction 
of  others.  He  was  sedulous  in  preparing  these  men  for  their 
important  duty.  ''The  catechists,"  he  says,  "require  to  be 
daily  admonished  and  stirred  up,  otherwise  they  fall  into  indo- 
lence and  impurity."  Accordingly  he  daily  assembled  all  those 
whose  nearness  permitted  this  frequency  of  intercourse ;  he 
taught  them  to  explain  the  doctrines  of  their  religion ;  he  di- 
rected their  labours  for  the  day,  and  he  received  a  report  of 
those  labours  in  the  evening. 

His  visits  to  Tanjore  became  more  frequent,  and  he  obtained 
the  confidence  of  the  Rajah,  or  native  prince,  Tulia  Maha,  who 
ruled  that  city  under  the  protection  of  the  British.  In  1779, 
Schwartz  procured  permission  from  him  to  erect  a  church  in  his 
capital,  and,  with  the  sanction  of  the  Madras  government,  set 
immediately  to  work  on  this  task.  His  funds  failing,  he  applied 
at  Madras  for  further  aid ;  but,  in  reply,  he  was  summoned  to 
the  seat  of  government  with  all  speed,  and  requested  to  act  as 
an  ambassador,  to  treat  with  Hyder  Ally  for  the  continuance 
of  peace.  It  has  been  said  that  Schwartz  engaged  more  deeply 
than  became  his  calling  in  the  secular  affiiirs  of  India.  The 
best  apology  for  his  interference,  if  apology  be  needful,  is  con- 
tained in  his  own  account : — "  The  novelty  of  the  proposal  sur- 
prised me  at  first :  I  begged  some  time  to  consider  of  it.  At 
last  I  accepted  of  the  offer,  because  by  so  doing  I  hoped  to 
prevent  evil,  and  to  promote  the  welfare  of  the  country."     The 


CHRISTIAN  SCHWARTZ.  367 

reason  for  sending  him  is  at  least  to  3  honourable  to  him  to  be 
omitted:  it  was  the  requisition  of  Ilyder  himself.  "Do  not 
send  to  me,"  he  said,  "any  of  jour  agents;  for  I  do  not  trust 
their  words  or  treaties :  but  if  you  wish  me  to  listen  to  your 
proposals,  send  to  me  the  missionary  of  whose  character  I  hear 
so  much  from  every  one  ;  him  I  will  receive  and  trust." 

In  his  character  of  an  envoy,  Schwartz  succeeded  admirably. 
He  conciliated  the  crafty,  suspicious,  and  unfeeling  despot,  with- 
out compromising  the  dignity  of  those  whom  he  represented,  or 
forgetting  the  meekness  of  his  calling.  He  would  gladly  have 
rendered  his  visit  to  Seringapatam  available  to  higher  than  tem- 
poral interests :  but  here  he  met  with  little  encouragement. 
Indifferent  to  all  religion,  Hyder  suffered  the  preacher  to  speak 
to  him  of  mercy  and  of  judgment;  but  in  these  things  his  heart 
had  no  part.  Some  few  converts  Schwartz  made  during  his 
abode  of  three  months  ;  but  on  the  whole  he  met  with  little  suc- 
cess. He  parted  with  Hyder  upon  good  terms,  and  returned 
with  joy  to  Tanjore.  The  peace,  however,  was  of  no  long  con- 
tinuance ;  and  Schwartz  complained  that  the  British  govern- 
ment were  guilty  of  the  infraction.  Hyder  invaded  the  Car- 
natic,  wasting  it  with  fire  and  sword ;  and  the  frightened  inha- 
bitants flocked  for  relief  and  protection  to  the  towns.  Tanjore 
and  Tritchinopoly  were  filled  with  famishing  multitudes.  Dur- 
ing the  years  1781,  2,  and  3,  this  misery  continued.  At  Tan- 
jore, especially,  the  scene  was  dreadful.  Numbers  perished  in 
the  streets,  of  want  and  disease ;  corpses  lay  unburied,  because 
the  survivors  had  not  energy  or  strength  to  inter  them ,  the 
bonds  of  affection  were  so  broken  that  parents  offered  their  chil- 
dren for  sale ;  and  the  garrison,  though  less  afflicted  than  the 
native  population,  were  enfeebled  and  depressed  by  want,  and 
threatened  by  a  powerful  army  without  the  walls.  There  were 
provisions  in  the  country;  but  the  cultivators,  frightened  ani 
alienated  by  the  customary  exactions  and  ill-usage,  refused  to 
bring  it  to  the  fort.  They  would  trust  neither  the  British  au- 
thorities nor  the  Rajah :  all  confidence  was  destroyed.  "  At 
last  the  Rajah  said  to  one  of  our  principal  gentlemen,  '  We  all, 
you  and  I,  have  lost  our  credit :  let  us  try  whether  the  inhabit- 
ants will  trust  Mr.  Schwartz.'  Accordingly,  he  sent  me  a  blank 
paper,  empowering  me  to  make  a  proper  agreement  witli  the 
people.     Here  was  no  time  for  hesitation.     The  Sepoys  fell 


36S  LIVES   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

down  as  dead  people,  being  emaciated  with  hunger ;  our  streets 
were  lined  with  dead  corpses  every  morning — our  condition  was 
deplorable.  I  sent,  therefore,  letters  everywhere  round  about, 
promising  to  pay  any  one  with  my  own  hands,  and  to  pay  them 
for  any  bullock  which  might  be  taken  by  the  enemy.  In  one 
or  two  days  I  got  nbove  a  thousand  bullocks ;  and  sent  one  of 
our  catechists,  and  other  Christians,  into  the  country.  They 
went  at  the  risk  of  their  lives,  made  all  possible  haste,  and 
brought  into  the  fort,  in  a  very  short  time,  80,000  kalams  of 
grain.  By  this  means  the  fort  was  saved.  When  all  was 
over,  I  paid  the  people,  even  with  some  money  which  belonged 
to  others,  made  them  a  small  present,  and  sent  them  hom<>  '' 

The  letter  from  which  this  passage  is  extracted  was  writteii 
to  the  Society  for  promoting  Christian  Knowledge,  in  conse- 
quence of  an  attack  made  by  a  member  of  parliament  upon  the 
character  of  the  Hindoo  converts,  and  depreciation  of  the 
labours  of  the  missionaries.  To  boast  was  not  in  Schwartz's 
nature ;  but  he  was  not  deterred  by  a  false  modesty  from  vin- 
dicating his  own  reputation,  when  it  was  expedient  for  his  Mas- 
ter's service  :  and  there  has  seldom  been  a  more  striking  tribute 
paid  to  virtue,  unassisted  by  power,  than  in  the  conduct  of  the 
Hindoos,  as  told  in  this  simple  statement.  His  labours  did  not 
cease  with  this  crisis,  nor  with  his  personal  exertions.  He 
bought  a  quantity  of  rice  at  his  own  expense,  and  prevailed  on 
some  European  merchants  to  furnish  him  with  a  monthly  sup- 
ply ;  by  means  of  which  he  preserved  many  persons  from  pe- 
rishing. In  1784,  he  was  again  employed  by  the  Company  on  a 
mission  to  Tippoo  Saib ;  but  the  son  of  Hyder  refused  to  receive 
him.  About  this  period  his  health,  hitherto  robust,  began  to 
fail ;  and  in  a  letter,  dated  July,  1784,  he  speaks  of  the  ap- 
proach of  death,  of  his  comfort  in  the  prospect,  and  firm  belief 
in  the  doctrines  which  he  preached.  In  the  same  year  the  in- 
crease of  his  congregation  rendered  it  necessary  to  build  a 
Malabar  church  in  the  suburbs  of  Tanjore,  which  was  done 
chiefly  at  his  own  expense.  In  February,  1785,  he  engaged  in 
a  scheme  for  raising  English  schools  throughout  the  country,  to 
facilitate  the  intercourse  of  the  natives  with  Europeans.  Schools 
were  accordingly  established  at  Tanjore  and  three  other  places. 
The  pupils  were  chiefly  children  of  the  upper  classes — of  Bra- 
mins  and  merchants ;  and  the  good  faith  with  which  Schwartz 


CHKTSTTAN   SCHWAKTZ.  369 

conducted  these  establishments  deserves  to  be  praised  as  well 
as  his  religious  zeal.  "  Their  intention,  doubtless,  is  to  learn 
the  English  language,  with  a  view  to  their  temporal  welfare ; 
but  they  thereby  become  better  acquainted  with  good  princi- 
ples. No  deceitful  methods  are  used  to  bring  them  over  to  the 
doctrines  of  Christ,  though  the  most  earnest  wishes  are  felt  that 
they  may  attain  that  knowledge  which  is  life  eternal."  In  a 
temporal  view,  these  establishments  proved  very  serviceable  to 
many  of  the  pupils :  but,  contrary  to  Schwartz's  hopes  and 
wishes,  not  one  of  the  young  men  became  a  missionary. 

In  January,  1787,  Schwartz's  friend,  the  Rajah  of  Tanjore, 
lay  at  the  point  of  death.  Being  childless,  he  had  adopted  a 
boy,  yet  in  his  minority,  as  his  successor  ;  a  practice  recognised 
by  the  Hindoo  law.  His  brother,  ximeer  Sing,  however,  was 
supported  by  a  strong  British  party,  and  it  was  not  likely  that 
he  would  submit  quietly  to  his  exclusion  from  the  throne.  In 
this  strait  Tulia  Maha  sent  for  Schwartz,  as  the  only  person  to 
whom  he  could  intrust  his  adopted  son.  "This,"  he  said,  'Ms 
not  my,  but  your  son ;  into  your  hands  I  deliver  the  child." 
Schwartz  accepted  the  charge  with  reluctance  :  he  represented 
his  inability  to  protect  the  orphan,  and  suggested  that  Ameer 
Sing  should  be  named  regent  and  guardian.  The  advice  pro- 
bably was  the  best  that  could  be  given :  but  the  regent  proved 
false,  or  at  least  doubtful  in  his  trust ;  and  the  charge  proved  a 
source  of  trouble  and  anxiety.  But  by  Schwartz's  care  and 
influence  with  the  Company,  the  young  prince  was  reared  to 
manhood,  and  established  in  possession  of  his  inheritance.  Nor 
were  Schwartz's  pains  unsuccessful  in  the  cultivation  of  his 
young  pupil's  mind,  who  is  characterized  by  Heber  as  an  '<•  ex- 
traordinary man."  He  repaid  these  fatherly  cares  with  a  filial 
affection,  and  long  after  the  death  of  Schwartz  testified,  both  by 
word,  and  deed,  his  regard  for  his  memory. 

We  find  little  to  relate  during  the  latter  part  of  Schwartz's 
life,  though  much  might  be  written,  but  that  the  limits  of  this 
work  forbid  us  to  dilate  upon  a  single  biography.  His  efforts 
were  unceasing  to  promote  the  good,  temporal  as  well  as  spiri- 
tual, of  the  Indian  population.  On  one  occasion  he  was  re- 
quested to  inspect  the  water-courses  by  which  the  arid  lands  of 
the  Carnatic  are  irrigated ;  and  his  labours  were  rewarded  by  a 
great  increase  in  the  annual  produce.  Once  the  inhabitants  o^ 
47 


870  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

the  Tanjore  country  had  been  so  grievously  oppressed,  that  tnejr 
abandoned  their  farms,  and  fled  the  country.  The  cultivation 
which  should  have  begun  in  June,  was  not  commenced  even  at 
the  beginning  of  September,  and  all  began  to  apprehend  a  fa- 
mine. Schwartz  says  in  the  letter  which  we  have  already  quoted, 
"  I  entreated  the  Rajah  to  remove  that  shameful  oppression, 
and  to  recall  the  inhabitants.  He  sent  them  word  that  justice 
should  be  done  to  them,  but  they  disbelieved  his  promises.  He 
then  desired  me  to  write  to  them,  and  to  assure  them  that  he, 
at  my  intercession,  would  show  kindness  to  them.  I  did  so. 
All  immediately  returned ;  and  first  of  all  the  Collaries  be- 
lieved my  word,  so  that  7000  men  came  back  in  one  day.  The 
rest  of  the  inhabitants  followed  their  example.  When  I  ex- 
horted them  to  exert  themselves  to  the  utmost,  because  the  time 
for  cultivation  was  almost  lost,  they  replied  in  the  following 
manner: — 'As  you  have  showed  kindness  to  us,  you  shall  not 
have  reason  to  repent  of  it :  we  intend  to  work  night  and  day 
to  show  our  regard  for  you.'  " 

His  preaching  was  rewarded  by  a  slow,  but  a  progressive 
effect ;  and  the  number  of  missionaries  being  increased  by  the 
Society  in  England,  the  growth  of  the  good  seed,  which  he  had 
sown  during  a  residence  of  forty  years,  became  more  rapid  and 
perceptible.  In  the  country  villages  numerous  congregations 
were  formed,  and  preachers  were  established  at  Cuddalore, 
Vepery,  Negapatam,  and  Palamcotta,  as  well  as  at  the  earlier 
stations  of  Tranquebar,  Tritchinopoly,  and  Tanjore,  whose  chief 
recreation  was  the  occasional  intercourse  with  each  other  which 
their  duty  afforded  them,  and  who  lived  in  true  harmony  and 
union  of  mind  and  purpose.  The  last  illness  of  Schwartz  was 
cheered  by  the  presence  of  almost  all  the  missionaries  in  the 
south  of  India,  who  regarded  him  as  a  father,  and  called  him 
by  that  endearing  name.  His  labours  did  not  diminish  as  his 
years  increased.  From  the  beginning  of  January  to  the  middle 
of  October,  1797,  we  are  told  by  his  pupil  and  assistant,  Caspar 
Kolhoff,  he  preached  every  Sunday  in  the  English  and  Tamul 
languages  by  turns  ;  for  several  successive  Wednesdays  he  gave 
lectures  in  their  own  languages  to  the  Portuguese  and  German 
soldiers  incorporated  in  the  51st  regiment ;  during  the  week  he 
explained  the  New  Testament  in  his  usual  order  at  morning 
and  evening  prayer;  and  he  dedicated  an  hour  every  day  to  the 


CHRISTIAN   SCHWARTZ.  371 

Histruction  of  the  Malabar  school  children.  In  October,  he  who 
hitherto  had  scarce  known  disease,  received  the  warning  of  his 
mortality.  He  rallied  for  a  while,  and  his  friends  hoped  that 
he  might  yet  be  spared  to  them.  But  a  relapse  took  place,  and 
he  expired  February  13,  1798,  having  displayed  throughout  a 
long  and  painful  illness  a  beautiful  example  of  resignation  and 
happiness,  and  an  interest  undimmed  by  pain  in  the  welfare  of 
all  for  and  with  whom  he  had  laboured.  His  funeral,  on  the 
day  after  his  death,  presented  a  most  affecting  scene.  It  was 
delayed  by  the  arrival  of  the  Rajah,  who  wished  to  behold  once 
more  his  kind,  and  faithful,  and  watchful  friend  and  guardian. 
The  cofl&n  lid  was  removed ;  the  prince  gazed  for  the  last  time 
on  the  pale  and  composed  features,  and  burst  into  tears.  The 
funeral  service  was  interrupted  by  the  cries  of  a  multitude  who 
loved  the  reliever  of  their  distresses,  and  honoured  the  pure  life 
of  the  preacher,  who  for  near  fifty  years  had  dwelt  among  them, 
careless  alike  of  pleasure,  interest,  and  ambition,  pursuing  a 
difficult  and  thankless  task  with  unchanging  ardour,  the  friend 
of  princes,  yet  unsullied  even  by  the  suspicion  of  a  bribe,  de- 
voting his  whole  income,  beyond  a  scanty  maintenance,  to  the 
service  of  the  cause  which  his  life  was  spent  in  advocating. 

The  Rajah  continued  to  cherish  Schwartz's  memory.  He 
commissioned  Flaxman  for  a  monument  erected  to  him  at  Tan- 
jore ;  he  placed  his  picture  among  those  of  his  own  ancestors ; 
he  erected  more  than  one  costly  establishment  for  charitable 
purposes  in  honour  of  his  name ;  and,  though  not  professing 
Christianity,  he  secured  to  the  Christians  in  his  service  not  only 
liberty,  but  full  convenience  for  the  performance  of  their  reli- 
gious duties.  Nor  were  the  directors  of  the  East  India  Company 
backward  in  testifying  their  gratitude  for  his  services.  They 
sent  out  a  monument  by  Bacon  to  be  erected  in  St.  Mary's  Church 
at  Madras,  with  orders  to  pay  every  becoming  honour  to  his 
memory,  and  especially  to  permit  to  the  natives,  by  whom  he 
was  so  revered,  free  access  to  view  this  memorial  of  his  virtues. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  no  full  memoir  of  the  life  and  labours 
of  this  admirable  man  has  been  published.  It  is  understood 
that  his  correspondence,  preserved  by  the  Society  for  promoting 
Christian  Knowledge,  would  furnish  ample  materials  for  such  a 
work.  The  facts  of  this  account  are  taken  from  the  only  two 
memoirs  of  Schwartz  which  we  know  to  be  in  print, — a  short 


372  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

one  for  cheap  circulation  published  by  the  Religious  Tract  So 
cietj     and  a  more  finished  tribute  to  his  memory  in  Mr.  Game's 
"Lives  of  Eminent  Missionaries,"    recently  published.      We 
conclude  in  the  words  of  one  whose  praise  carries  with  it  autho- 
rity, Bishop  Heber :   "  Of  Schwartz,  and  his  fifty  years'  labour 
among  the  heathen,  the  extraordinary  influence  and  popularity 
■which  he  acquired,  both  with   Mussulmans,  Hindoos,  and  con- 
tending  European   governments,  I  need  give  you  no  account, 
except  that  my  idea  of  him  has  been  raised  since  I  came  into 
the  south  of  India.     I  used  to  suspect  that,  with  many  admira- 
ble qualities,  there  was  too  great  a  mixture  of  intrigue  in  his 
character — that  he  was  too  much  of  a  political  prophet,  and  that 
the  veneration  which  the  heathen  paid,  and  still  pay  him,  (and 
which  indeed  almost  regards  him  as  a  superior  being,  putting 
crowns,  and  burning  lights  before  his  statue,)  was  purchased  by 
some  unwarrantable  compromise  with  their  prejudices.      I  find 
I  was  quite  mistaken.     He  was  really  one  of  the  most  active 
and  fearless,  as  he  was  one  of  the  most  successful  missionaries, 
who  have  appeared  since  the  apostles.     To  say  that  he  was  dis- 
interested in   regard  of  money,   is   nothing ;  he  was  perfectly 
careless  of  power,  and  renown  never  seemed  to  affect  him,  even 
so  far  as  to  induce  an  outward  show  of  humility.     His  temper 
was  perfectly  simple,  open,  and  cheerful ;  and  in  his  political 
negotiations  (employments  which  he  never  sought,  but  which  fell 
in  his  way)  he  never  pretended  to  impartiality,  but  acted  as  the 
avowed,  though  certainly  the  successful  and  judicious  agent  of 
the  orphan  prince  committed  to  his  care,  and  from  attempting 
whose  conversion  to  Christianity  he   seems  to  have   abstained 
from  a  feeling  of  honour.*     His  other  converts  were  between 
six  and  seven  thousand,  besides  those  which  his  companions  and 
predecessors  in  the  cause  had  brought  over." 

*  He  probably  acted  on  the  same  principle  as  in  conducting  the  English 
Bchoois  above  mentioned,  using  "  no  deceitful  methods."  That  he  was  earnest 
in  recommending  the  fnea7is  of  conversion,  appears  from  a  dying  conversation 
irith  his  pupil,  Serf  ogee  Rajah. 


JOSEPH  ADDISON. 


378 


JOSEPH   ADDISON, 


^  WRITER  of  surpassing  elegance,  was 
born  at  Milton,  near  Amesbury,  in  Wilt- 
shire, on  the  1st  of  May,  16T2.  In  this 
town  he  received  the  rudiments  of  educa- 
tion, under  the  Rev.  Mr.  Naish,  and  was 
?v^  afterwards  removed  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Taylor's 
school,  at  Salisbury,  and  from  thence  to  the 
Charter  House,  where  he  became  acquainted 
with  Steele.  At  the  age  of  fifteen,  he  was  en- 
tered of  Queen's  College,  Oxford;  and,  shortly 
afterwards,  a  copy  of  some  of  his  Latin  verses  fall- 
ing into  the  hands  of  Dr.  Lancaster,  Dean  of  Mag- 
dalen College,  that  gentleman  was  so  pleased  with  the 
talent  they  displayed,  that  he  procured  the  author's 
election  into  his  own  hall,  where  Addison  took  his  de- 
grees of  B.  A.  and  M.  A.  In  the  course  of  a  few  years, 
he  gained  the  applause  of  both  universities,  by  his  Latin  com- 
positions, which  were  no  less  esteemed  abroad,  and  are  said  to 
have  elicited  from  Boileau  the  remark  that  he  would  not  have 
written  against  Perrault,  had  he  before  seen  such  excellent 
pieces  by  a  modern  hand.  His  first  publication,  a  copy  of 
verses  addressed  to  Mr.  Dryden,  appeared  about  1694,  who  be- 
stowed great  commendation  both  on  this  and  the  one  that  fol- 
loTved  it,  which  was  a  translation  of  the  fourth  Georgic  of  Vir- 
gil, (omitting  the  story  of  Aristseus.)  His  next  production  was 
<' An  Essay  on  the  Georgics,"  prefixed  to  Mr.  Dryden's  transla- 
tion, an  admirable  piece  of  criticism  ;  and,  about  the  same  time, 
he  wrote  several  small  poems,  one  of  which,  dated  April,  1694, 
was  addressed  to  the  famous  Sacheverell,  his  intimacy  with 
whom  was  subsequently  broken  off"  by  their  disagreement  in 
political  principles. 

Mr.  Addison  had,  it  seems,  been  urged  by  his  father,  Dean 

2  I 


374  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

Addison,  to  go  into  the  church  ;  but  either  on  account  of  his 
remarkable  seriousness  and  modesty,  as  related  by  Tickell,  or, 
according  to  Steele,  at  the  suggestion  of  Lord  Halifax,  he  de- 
dined  taking  orders,  and,  in  1699,  commenced  a  tour  to  Italy, 
on  a  travelling  pension  of  £300  per  annum,  obtained  for  him 
by  Sir  John  Somers,  whose  patronage  he  had  previously  se- 
cured by  addressing  to  him  some  verses  on  one  of  the  cam- 
paigns of  King  William.  In  1701,  he  wrote  from  Italy  an 
epistolary  poem  to  Lord  Halifax,  which  was  much  admired  both 
at  home  and  abroad,  and  was  translated  into  Italian  verse  by 
the  Abbot  Antonio  Maria  Saloini,  professor  of  Greek,  at  Flo- 
rence. In  1702,  he  w^as  appointed  to  attend  Prince  Eugene, 
who  then  commanded  for  the  emperor,  in  Italy ;  but  the  death 
of  King  William  happening  soon  afterwards,  which  put  an  end 
to  this  aifair  as  well  as  his  pension,  he  returned  home  and  pub- 
lished an  account  of  his  travels,  dedicated  to  Lord  Somers. 
The  work  did  not  at  first  succeed ;  but,  by  degrees,  says  the 
writer  of  his  life  in  the  Biographia  Britannica,  as  the  curious 
entered  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  book,  their  judgment  of  it 
changed,  and  the  demand  for  it  became  so  great  that  the  price 
rose  to  five  times  its  original  value  before  a  second  edition  was 
printed.  In  1704,  an  opportunity  was  afforded  to  him  of  dis- 
playing his  abilities  with  advantage  from  the  following  circum- 
stance : — Lord  Godolphin,  the  treasurer,  happening  to  com- 
plain to  Lord  Halifax  that  the  Duke  of  Marlborough's  victory 
at  Blenheim  had  not  been  celebrated  in  verse  as  it  deserved, 
the  patron  of  our  poet  observed  that  he  knew  a  person  capable  of 
writing  upon  such  a  subject,  but  that  he  would  not  name  him — 
adding  that  he  had  long  seen,  with  indignation,  men  of  no  merit 
maintained  in  pomp  and  luxury  at  the  expense  of  the  public, 
while  persons  of  too  much  modesty,  wdth  great  abilities,  lan- 
guished in  obscurity.  Lord  Godolphin  took  the  hint,  and,  on 
Addison  being  named,  sent  the  chancellor  of  the  exchequer  to 
wait  upon  him  personally,  when  he,  in  consequence,  undertook 
his  celebrated  poem  of  the  campaign,  which,  being  shown  to  the 
lord-treasurer  when  it  was  carried  no  farther  than  the  famous 
simile  of  the  angel,  so  pleased  him  that  he  immediately  ap- 
pointed its  author  a  commissioner  of  appeals. 

In  1705,  Mr.  Addison  accompanied  Lord  Halifax  to  Hanover,^ 
and,  in  the  following  year,  he  was  chosen  under-secretary  of 


JOSEPH   ADDISO^s  375 

•state  to  Sir  Charles  Hedges,  and  was  continued  in  the  same 
office  by  the  Earl  of  Sunderland,  who  succeeded  Sir  Charles  iu 
l>>ecember,  1706.  About  this  time,  a  taste  for  operas  begin- 
ning to  prevail  in  England,  the  subject  of  our  memoir  was  re- 
quested, by  several  persons  of  distinction,  to  try  his  skill  in 
that  species  of  composition,  and  he  accordingly  produced  his 
Rosamond,  which,  had  the  music  been  equal  to  the  poetry, 
would  probably  have  met  with  success.  In  1709,  he  accom- 
panied the  Marquess  of  Wharton  to  Ireland  as  his  secretary, 
and  was,  at  the  same  time,  appointed  keeper  of  the  records  in 
that  kingdom,  with  an  increased  salary  of  c£300  per  annum. 
The  publication  of  "  The  Tattler"  having  been  commenced  in  the 
same  year  by  Steele,  Addison  continued  to  be  a  principal  sup- 
porter of  that  paper  until  its  cessation,  in  January,  1711,  when 
the  establishment  of  "  The  Spectator,"  in  the  following  March, 
again  called  into  play  his  unequalled  powers  as  an  essayist.  Of 
this  publication  we  shall,  at  present,  only  observe  that  it  was 
completed  on  the  6th  of  September,  1712,  and  that  our  author 
was  careful  to  identify  his  papers  throughout  the  whole  by 
some  letter  in  the  name  of  the  muse  Clio.  He  also  took  a  part 
in  ''The  New  Spectator,"  which,  however,  failed,  and  to  its  suc- 
<3essor  "The  Guardian,"  he  contributed  several  excellent  papers, 
which  are  distinguished  by  a  hand. 

In  1713,  appeared  his  celebrated  tragedy  of  Cato,  which, 
with  a  prologue  by  Pope,  and  an  epilogue  by  Dr.  Grarth,  was 
received,  on  its  representation  at  the  theatre,  with  the  most 
extravagant  applause.  During  a  run  of  five-and-thirty  nights, 
it  received  the  unanimous  applause  of  Whigs  and  Tories — the 
former  lauding  to  the  skies  every  line  in  which  liberty  was 
mentioned,  as  a  satire  on  their  opponents;  and  the  latter  echo- 
ing every  clap,  to  show  that  the  satire  was  unfelt.  It  would 
seeii.,  therefore,  that  party  spirit,  rather  than  the  merit  of  the 
p'oce,  was  the  source  of  its  enthusiastic  reception  on  the  stage, 
whence  it  may  now  be  considered  as  banished.  As  a  poetical 
production,  however,  Cato  afterwards  raised  its  author  to  a  very 
high  rank  in  the  literary  world,  and,  besides  being  translated 
into  French,  Italian,  and  German,  and  acted  by  the  Jesuit  stu- 
dents at  St.  Omers,  was  attentively  criticized  by  Voltaire,  who, 
extravagant  both  in  his  praise  and  censure,  declared  the  love- 
scenes   contemptible,  but  the   principal   character   superior  to 


,■^76  LIVES    OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

an  J  before  brought  upon  the  stage.  Notwithstanding,  however, 
the  weight  of  authority  in  its  favour,  Cato  is  a  composition- 
sufficiently  bombastic  and  inflated  to  merit  the  fate  of  many  of 
the  performances  which  it  has  been  fortunate  enough  to  survive. 

Addison  had  already  formed  the  design  of  composing  an 
English  Dictionary  upon  the  plan  of  the  Italian  Delia  Crusca : 
but,  upon  the  death  of  Queen  Anne,  being  appointed  secretary 
to  the  lords  justices,  he  had  not  leisure  to  carry  on  the  work. 
On  the  Earl  of  Sunderland's  becoming  viceroy  of  Ireland,  our 
author  accompanied  him  to  that  country  as  secretary;  and,  on 
the  removal  of  the  earl,  he  was  made  one  of  the  lords  of  trade. 
In  1715,  he  brought  out  "The  Freeholder,"  a  kind  of  political 
Spectator,  in  which  he  so  successfully  mingled  reason  with  hu- 
mour, as  to  soften  much  of  the  party  spirit  which  existed  at  the 
breaking  out  of  the  rebellion.  About  this  time,  he  also  pub- 
lished several  poetical  pieces — one  of  which  was  addressed  to 
the  Princess  of  Wales,  with  the  tragedy  of  Cato,  and  another 
to  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller,  on  the  king's  picture,  in  which  he  in- 
geniously adapted  the  heathen  mythology  to  the  English  sove- 
reigns, from  Charles  the  Second  to  George  the  First,  inclusive. 
In  1716,  he  married  the  Countess  of  Warwick,  to  whose  son  he 
had  been  tutor ;  but,  although  he  had  obtained  her  hand  by  a 
long  and  anxious  courtship,  this  union,  of  which  one  daughter 
was  the  fruit,  made  no  addition  to  his  happiness,  owing  to  the 
proud  and  jealous  temper  of  the  countess.  In  1717,  he  at- 
tained his  highest  political  elevation,  being  made  one  of  the 
principal  secretaries  of  state  ;  but,  after  holding  the  situation 
for  some  time,  he  solicited  his  own  dismissal,  and  retired  on  a 
pension  of  X1500  a  year.  To  the  ill  health  under  which  he 
was  labouring  at  this  time,  some  have  attributed  his  relinquish- 
ment of  this  office ;  but  the  true  cause  was  his  unfitness  for  the 
details  of  business,  and  his  senatorial  deficiency  as  an  orator — 
an  objection  to  his  preferment  which  he  had  himself  previously 
started. 

After  his  retirement,  he  applied  himself  to  the  completion  of 
6ome  religious  works,  in  which  he  had  been  interrupted  by  his 
Dolitical  duties  ;  but,  before  he  could  finish  any  of  them,  the 
asthmatic  disorder,  under  which  he  had  for  some  time  suffered, 
increased  with  fatal  symptoms  and  put  an  end  to  his  life,  at 
Holland  House,  Kensington,  on  the  17th  of  June,  1719.     He 


JOSEPH   ADDISON.  377 

met  his  end  with  great  calmness  and  resignation,  and  rendered 
his  death-bed  memorable  by  the  solemn  injunction  which  he 
delivered  from  it  to  his  step-son,  the  young  and  profligate  Lord 
Warwick.  He  had  often  before  attempted  to  reclaim  him,  and 
now  made  a  last  effort  by  saying  to  him,  as  he  approached  his 
bed-side,  "  I  have  sent  for  you  that  you  may  see  how  a 
Christian  can  die. 


49 


378 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


ELIZABETH   ROWL. 


LIZABETH  ROWE,  the  daughter  of  the 
Reverend  Mr.  Singer,  a  dissenting  minister, 
was  born  at  Ilchester,  in  Somersetshire,  on 
the  11th  of  September,  1674.  Music,  paint- 
ing, and  poetry,  she  cultivated  at  an  earlj 
age ;  and,  in  1696,  she  published  a  volume 
of  poems,  "which  gained  some  reputation,  having 
previously  composed  a  paraphrase  on  the  thirty- 
eighth  chapter  of  Job,  at  the  request  of  Bishop 
Ken.  She  afterwards  studied  French  and  Italian, 
under  the  superintendence  of  the  Honourable  Mr. 
Thynne,  son  to  Lord  Weymouth,  who  was  much  cap- 
tivated with  her  person  and  abilities,  which  induced, 
among  others,  the  poet  Prior,  to  pay  his  addresses  to 
her.  She,  however,  in  1710,  gave  her  hand  to  Mr. 
Thomas  Rowe,  but  becoming  a  widow  in  1715,  retired  to 
Frome,  in  Somersetshire,  where  she  composed  the  most  cele- 
brated of  her  works,  "  Friendship  in  Death,  or  Twenty  Letters 
from  the  Dead  to  the  Living."  This  was  succeeded,  in  1729, 
by  '*  Letters,  Moral  and  Entertaining,  in  Verse  and  Prose;" 
and,  in  1736,  by  her  "History  of  Joseph,  a  poem ;"  and,  in  the 
February  of  the  following  year,  she  died  of  apoplexy.  Shortly 
after  her  death,  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  published  her ''  Devout  Exercises 
of  the  Heart,"  with  a  preface,  in  which  he  highly  commends 
them,  for  the  sublime  sentiments  and  elevated  piety  which  they 
contain.  In  1739,  appeared  her  Miscellaneous  Works,  in  Prose 
and  Verse,  in  two  volumes,  octavo,  with  an  account  of  her  life 
and  writings  prefixed.  The  poetry  of  Mrs.  Rowe  is  of  a  serious 
cast,  and  displays  feeling,  imagination,  and  taste;  but,  upon  tlie 
whole,  it  is  not  deserving  of  a  higher  epithet  than  respectable. 
Her  character  was  exceedingly  estimable,  and  she  enjoj^cd  tht> 
friendship  of  some  of  the  most  eminent  literati  of  her  day 


GRANVILLE   SHAPP. 


379 


GRANVILLE    SHARP, 

OUNGEST  son  of  Dr.  Thomas  Sharp,  a  pre- 
bendary  of  Durham,  and  grandson  of  Dr.  J. 
Sharp,  Archbishop  of  York,  was  born  in  1734, 
and  educated  for  the  bar,  but  never  practised 
his  profession.  He  had  a  place  in  the  Ord- 
nance office,  till  the  commencement  of  the 
American  war,  when  he  took  chambers  in  the 
Temple,  and,  soon  afterwards,  became  known 
to  the  public  by  his  philanthropic  conduct  and 
writings.  A  negro,  named  Somerset,  who  had 
been  brought,  by  his  master,  from  the  West  Indies, 
and  turned  into  the  streets,  in  consequence  of  illness, 
was  placed,  by  Mr.  Sharp,  in  Bartholomew's  Hospi- 
tal ;  and,  on  his  restoration  to  health,  established  by 
his  benefactor  in  a  comfortable  position.  His  former 
master,  on  ascertaining  this,  thought  proper  to  seize 
him,  and  commit  him  to  prison,  as  a  runaway  slave,  when  the 
subject  of  our  memoir  brought  the  case  before  the  Lord  Mayor, 
who  decided  in  favour  of  the  slave's  freedom.  His  inhuman 
master,  however,  grasping  him  by  the  collar,  and  attempting  to 
detain  him,  Mr.  Sharp  commenced  an  action  against  the  former 
in  the  Court  of  King's  Bench  ;  and  the  result  was,  by  a  decision 
of  the  twelve  judges,  that  slavery  could  not  exist  in  Great  Britain. 
Thus  encouraged,  he  continued  his  exertions  in  opposition  to 
slavery,  for  the  abolition  of  which  he  instituted  a  society ;  and, 
about  the  same  time,  sent  over,  at  his  own  expense,  a  number  of 
negroes  to  Africa.  Another  instance  of  his  public  spirit  was 
shown  in  his  obtaining  the  release  of  a  citizen  of  London,  who 
had  been  impressed  into  the  navy;  to  effect  which,  he  procured 
a  habeas  ccrpus  from  the  King's  Bench,  and  himself  addressed 
the  court.  He  died,  beloved  and  respected  by  all  who  knew  him, 
July  the  6th,  1813. 


880 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


HUGH  BLAIR. 


UGrH  BLAIR,  descended  from  Robert  Blair, 
chaplain  to  Charles  the  First,  and  son  of  a 
merchant,  who  lost  the  greater  part  of  his 
fortune  in  the  South  Sea  scheme,  was  born  at 
Edinburgh  on  the  7th  of  April,  1718.  After 
having  gone  through  a  course  of  education  at 
the  high  school,  he,  in  1730,  entered  the  Uni- 
versity of  Edinburgh,  where  he  spent  eleven 
years  in  the  study  of  literature,  philosophy  and 
divinity.  In  the  logic  class  he  particularly  ex- 
celled ;  and  his  Essay  on  the  Beautiful,  a  subject 
proposed  by  the  professor,  was  highly  applauded, 
and  appointed  to  be  publicly  read.  Having  gradua- 
ted A.  M.  in  1739,  he  was,  on  the  23d  of  October, 
1741,  licensed  to  preach  by  the  presbytery;  and,  in 
the  September  of  the  following  year,  he  was  presented 
t3  the  living  of  Colessie,  in  Fifeshire.  In  July,  1743,  he  was 
elected  minister  of  the  Canongate  Church  at  Edinburgh,  from 
which  he  was  translated,  in  1754,  in  consequence  of  a  call  from 
the  town  council,  to  Lady  Tester's  Church,  in  the  same  city ; 
and,  in  1758,  to  the  first  charge  in  the  High  Church,  being  the 
most  honourable  clerical  situation  in  Scotland.  In  1757,  the 
University  of  St.  Andrew  created  him  D.  D. ;  at  which  time  he 
had  obtained  great  reputation  as  a  preacher,  but,  as  an  author, 
had  written  nothing  besides  two  sermons,  and  a  few  articles  in 
a  periodical  work.  In  1759,  he  prepared  a  course  of  lec- 
tures on  composition,  and  delivered  them  with  such  success, 
that  the  university  instituted  a  rhetorical  class  under  his  di- 
rection ;  and  the  king  founded  a  professorship  of  rhetoric  and 
belles  letters,  in  1762,  when  Dr.  Blair  was  appointed  to  the 
chair,  with  a  salary  of  £10.  About  the  same  time  he  gave  to 
the  public  his  Dissertation  on  the  Poems  of  Ossian ;  in  which^ 


HUGH    BLAIR.  381 

in  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  criticism  ever  produced,  he 
zealously  advocated  their  authenticity.  In  1773,  the  first  uni- 
form edition  of  the  works  of  the  British  poets  was  published 
under  his  superintendence,  and  he  also  engaged  in  a  new  edition 
of  the  works  of  Shakspeare.  In  1777,  appeared  the  first  volume 
of  his  Sermons,  which  Strahan  purchased  for  <£100,  on  the 
recommendation  of  Dr.  Johnson.  They  were  succeeded  by  three 
additional  volumes,  for  which  he  received  .£1500,  and  he  was 
further  rewarded,  at  the  request  of  Queen  Charlotte,  with  a 
pension  of  £200  per  annum.  In  1783,  he  resigned  his  pro- 
fessorship, and  published  his  Lectures  on  Composition,  which 
contain  an  accurate  analysis  of  the  principles  of  literary  com- 
position, in  every  species  of  writing,  and  an  able  digest  of  the 
rules  of  eloquence,  as  applicable  to  the  oratory  of  the  pulpit, 
the  bar,  and  of  popular  assemblies. 

In  the  summer  of  1800,  he  began  to  prepare  an  additional 
volume  of  his  Sermons  for  the  press,  but  did  not  live  to  publish 
them,  his  death  taking  place  in  the  December  of  the  same  year. 
He  had  married,  in  1748,  his  cousin.  Miss  Bannatine,  by  whom 
he  had  a  son  and  a  daughter,  both  of  whom  he  survived,  together 
with  his  wife. 

The  Lectures  and  Sermons  of  Dr.  Blair  still  continue  to  hold 
a  high  rank  in  public  estimation,  though  the  latter,  from  their 
general  want  of  profundity,  have  been  considered  rather  as 
treatises  than  sermons.  They  were,  however,  the  first  regular 
didactic  orations  that  had  been  heard  in  Scotland,  and  have 
been  justly  described  as  occupying  a  middle  place  between  the 
dry  metaphysical  discussions  of  one  class  of  preachers,  and 
the  loose,  incoherent  ieclamation  of  another;  and  as  blending 
together,  in  the  happiest  manner,  the  light  of  argument  Avith 
the  warmth  of  exhortation.  The  private  character  of  Dr.  Blair 
was,  in  every  respect,  that  of  the  divine  and  the  philanthropist: 
with  eminent  talents  and  inflexible  integrity,  he  possessed  a 
mind  of  the  most  unsuspecting  simplicity;  '^  which,"  says  his 
biographer,  Dr.  Finlayson,  "while  it  secured  to  the  last  his  own 
relish  of  life,  was  wonderfully  calculated  to  endear  him  to  his 
friends,  and  to  render  him  an  invaluable  member  of  every  society 
to  whiih  he  belonged." 


SS2 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


COLONEL  GARDINER. 


AMES,   the  second   son    of  Captain  Patrick 

Gardiner,  was  born  at  Carriden,  in  Linlith- 
gowshire, on  the  10th  of  January,  1688. 
Wlien  fourteen  years  of  age,  he  entered  the 
army  as  ensign  of  a  Scotch  regiment  in  the 
Dutch  service.  At  the  battle  of  Ramillies,  he 
^^^'  was  one  of  those  who  composed  the  forlorn  hope 
appointed  to  dislodge  the  French  from  a  church- 
yard. On  this  occasion,  he  planted  his  colours 
on  an  advanced  ground,  and,  while  encouraging 
his  men,  received  a  shot  in  the  mouth,  which  passed 
through  his  neck,  without  knocking  out  a  tooth,  or 
touching  the  fore  part  of  his  tongue.  He  remained 
on  the  field  until  the  next  morning,  when  a  Cordelier 
mistaking  him  for  a  Frenchman,  carried  him  to  an  adjoin- 
ing convent,  where  he  was  hospitably  entertained  and 
cured  of  his  wound.  He  bore  a  share  in  almost  ever}^  action 
fought  by  the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  in  Flanders ;  and,  at  the 
siege  of  Preston,  in  Lancashire,  signalized  himself  by  setting  fire 
to  the  barricade  of  the  rebels,  in  the  face  of  their  whole  army, 
at  the  head  of  only  twelve  men,  eight  of  whom  were  killed  dur- 
ing the  exploit.  He  was  afterwards  appointed  master  of  the 
horse  to  the  Earl  of  Stair,  whom  he  accompanied  to  Paris  ;  where, 
fascinated  by  the  temptations  to  which  he  was  exposed,  he  gave 
himself  up  wholly  to  pleasure  and  sensuality. 

A  strange  circumstance,  however,  which  befell  him  in  1719, 
although  it  was  attended  with  no  immediate  effect,  eventually 
changed  the  entire  tenour  of  his  conduct.  After  spending  a 
Sabbath  evening  in  gayety,  he  retired  to  his  chamber  at  eleven 
o'clock,  when  his  party  broke  up  ;  and,  having  an  assignation 
with  a  married  woman  at  twelve,  he  resolved  to  beguile  away 
the  intervening  hour  with  a   book.     The    work  on  which    he 


COLONEL   GARDINER  SSg 

chancer!  first  to  lay  his  hand,  was  entitled  ''  The  Christian  Soldier, 
or  Heaven  taken  by  Storm  :"  and  he  began  to  peruse  it,  under 
an  idea  that  its  contents  would  be  amusingly  absurd.  Suddenly 
he  thought  he  saw  an  unusual  blaze  of  light  fall  upon  the  book, 
which  he  attributed  to  some  accident  that  had  occurred  to  the 
candle ;  but,  on  looking  up,  he  believed  that  there  was  before 
him,  as  it  were  suspended  in  the  air,  a  visible  representation  of 
our  Saviour  on  the  cross,  surrounded  with. a  glory;  and  he  was 
impressed,  at  the  sani^  time,  with  the  idea  that  he  heard  words 
to  this  effect,  "Oh I  sinner,  did  I  suffer  this  for  thee,  and  are 
these  thy  returns  ?"  A  faintness  then  came  over  him,  and  he 
fell  into  a  chair,  where  he  remained  senseless,  for  a  considerable 
time.  This  incident  had  so  powerful  an  effect  upon  his  mind, 
that  at  length  he  became  as  remarkable  for  sanctity  of  life  as 
he  had  previously  been  notorious  for  debauchery  and  dissipa- 
tion. Religion,  however,  did  not  render  him  inattentive  to  his 
professional  duties ;  he  was  a  strict  disciplinarian,  and  watched 
over  his  men  in  the  double  capacity  of  a  military  as  well  as  a 
spiritual  director. 

In  1743,  he  was  appointed  colonel  of  Bland's  dragoons,  and 
commanded  that  regiment  at  the  battle  of  Preston-Pans,  in  1745. 
The  day  before  the  engagement  took  place,  though  much  en- 
feebled by  illness,  he  harangued  his  men  in  the  most  animat- 
ing manner ;  and,  on  perceiving  some  timidity  manifested  by 
them,  exclaimed,  "  I  cannot  influence  the  conduct  of  others  as 
I  could  wish,  but  I  have  one  life  to  sacrifice  to  my  country's 
safety,  and  I  shall  not  spare  it."  He  continued  all  night  under 
arms,  Avrapped  up  in  his  cloak,  and  sheltered  by  a  rick  of  bar- 
ley. At  three  in  the  morning  he  called  his  four  domestic  ser- 
vants to  him,  and  addressing  them  in  a  pathetic  tone  of  Christian 
exhortation,  bade  them  farewell,  as  if  for  ever.  "  There  is  great 
reason  to  believe,"  says  Doddridge,  his  spiritual  friend  and  bio- 
grapher, "  that  he  spent  the  little  remainder  of  the  time,  which 
could  not  be  much  above  an  hour,  in  those  devout  exercises  of 
the  soul  which  had  been  so  long  habitual  to  him,  and  to  which 
so  many  circumstances  did  then  concur  to  call  him." 

Early  in  the  battle,  which  commenced  before  sunrise  and  con- 
tinued only  a  few  minutes,  he  received  a  bullet  in  his  left  breast^ 
and  soon  afterwards  another  in  his  right  thigh.  He  still,  how- 
ever,  though  pressed  to  reti^eat,   fought   on,   and  some  of  'he 


384  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

enemy,  it  is  said,  fell  by  his  hand.  Deserted  by  his  regiment, 
which  he  had  in  vain  attempted  to  rally,  he  placed  himself  at 
the  head  of  a  party  of  foot,  whom  he  had  been  ordered  to  sup- 
port, and  who  were  bravely  fighting  near  him,  but  without  a 
commander.  On  riding  towards  them,  he  exclaimed,  "  Fire  on 
my  lads,  and  fear  nothing  !"  These  words  were  scarcely  uttered, 
when  a  Highlander  w^ounded  him  so  severely  in  the  right  arm, 
with  a  scythe,  that  the  sword  dropped  from  his  hand.  While 
still  entangled  with  his  assailant's  weapon,  other  insurgents 
came  up  and  dragged  him  from  his  horse  ;  and  one  of  these,  the 
moment  he  fell,  struck  him  a  mortal  blow,  either  with  a  broad- 
sword or  a  Lochaber  axe,  on  the  back  of  the  head.  He  caught 
his  hat  as  it  dropped,  with  his  left  hand,  and  waved  it  to  his 
servant  as  a  signal  to  retreat,  exclaiming,  with  his  last  breath, 
t'  Take  care  of  yourself!" 

Although  the  young  Pretender,  in  going  over  the  field,  after 
the  battle,  is  said  to  have  gently  raised  this  brave  soldier's  head, 
and  to  have  exclaimed,  ''  Poor  Grardiner  !  would  to  God  I  could 
restore  thy  life !"  yet,  it  is  asserted,  that  the  rebels  treated  his 
body  with  great  indignity,  and  stripped  his  house,  which  ad- 
joined the  scene  of  contest,  of  every  article  it  contained.  He 
was  interred  in  the  burial  ground  of  Tranent,  his  parish  church, 
at  which  he  had  been  a  constant  attendant.  By  his  wife,  a 
daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Buchan,  he  had  eleven  children,  but 
only  five  survived  him.  His  father  died  of  fatigue  at  the  battle 
of  Hochstet ;  his  maternal  uncle  was  killed  at  Steenkirk  ;  and 
his  eldest  brother,  when  only  sixteen  years  old,  fell  at  the  siege 
of  Namur. 

In  person,  Colonel  Gardiner  was  strongly  built,  and  well- 
proportioned;  in  stature,  unusually  tall;  and  in  the  expression 
of  his  countenance,  intellectual  and  dignified.  In  calm  heroism, 
he  has  never  been  excelled.  He  once  refused  a  challenge ;  but, 
so  highly  was  he  esteemed  for  courage,  without  any  imputation 
on  his  character  as  a  soldier.  *'I  fear  sinning,"  said  he,  on 
this  occasion,  '^though  you  know  1  do  not  fear  fighting!"  The 
energy  he  displayed,  notwithstanding  his  bodily  infirmities,  on 
the  day  preceding  the  fight,  at  Preston-Pans,  his  pious  exhorta- 
tion to  his  domestics,  his  devotion  before  the  battle,  and  his 
calm,  unflinching  bravery,  during  the  contest,  have  thrown  a 
vouiantic  charm  around  his  memory,  by  which  it  will,  doubtless, 


COLONEL   GARDINER.  385 

be  long  and  deservedly  embalmed.  In  conversation  he  was 
cheerful,  and  eminently  persuasive ;  in  disposition,  exceedingly 
charitable ;  and,  in  religious  principles,  though  a  strict  dissenter, 
amiably  tolerant  to  those  who  most  materially  differed  from  him 
in  doctrinal  points.  The  circumstance  which  led  to  his  conver- 
sion from  lewdness  and  impiety  to  enthusiastic  devotion,  may  be 
easily  explained  without  the  intervention  of  supernatural  agency. 
He  had  passed  the  evening  amid  the  excitation  of  gay,  and,  per- 
haps, dissolute  society ;  he  was  about  to  transgress  one  of  those 
holy  ordinances,  an  obedience  to  which,  the  book  that  fell  into 
his  hands  most  probably  enjoined;  he  had  previously,  at  times, 
suffered  most  bitterly  from  the  compunctions  of  conscience ;  and, 
not  long  before,  had  been  thrown  from  his  horse  with  such  vio- 
lence, that  his  brain,  perhaps,  was  slightly  affected  by  the  fall : 
'hese  circumstances,  acting  on  so  susceptible  an  imagination  as 
jrardiner  appears  to  have  possessed,  may  have  produced  that 
delusion  of  the  senses,  to  which  the  happy  amelioration  of  his 
conduct  has  been  principally  attributed. 


388 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 


ARCHBISHOP  TENISON. 


HOMAS,  son  of  the  Reverend  John  Tenison, 
was  born  at  Cottenham,  in  Cambridgeshire, 
on  the  29th  of  September,  1636.  He  acquired 
the  rudiments  of  education  at  the  grammar- 
school  of  Norwich,  w^hence,  about  the  year 
1653,  he  was  removed  to  Corpus  Christi  Col- 
lege, Cambridge.  He  took  the  degree  of  B.  xV. 
in  1657,  and  that  of  M.  A.  in  1660,  during 
which  year  he  obtained  a  fellowship.  In  1662, 
he  became  tutor  of  his  college ;  and,  in  1665,  he 
vas  chosen  one  of  the  university  preachers,  and 
•esented  to  the  curacy  of  St.  Andrew^  the  Great. 
His  conduct  to  the  sick,  when  the  plague  broke  out  at 
Cambridge,  was  so  exemplary  and  self-devoted,  that, 
as  a  token  of  their  admiration  and  gratitude,  his  parish- 
ioners presented  him  with  a  valuable  piece  of  plate.  In 
1667,  he  took  his  degree  of  B.  D.,  and  became  chaplain  to  the 
Earl  of  Manchester :  from  whom,  about  the  same  time,  he  ob- 
tained the  rectory  of  Holywell,  in  Huntingdonshire.  Shortly 
afterwards,  he  married  Anne,  the  daughter  of  Dr.  Love,  master 
of  his  college.  In  1674,  he  was  appointed  upper  minister  of 
St.  Peter's  Manscroft,  Norwich.  In  1680,  he  took  the  degree 
of  D.  D. ;  became  one  of  the  royal  chaplains  ;  and  Avas  presented 
by  Charles  IT.  to  the  vicarage  of  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields.  In 
1685,  he  attended  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  to  the  scaffold ;  on 
which  occasion  he  deported  himself,  according  to  Burnet,  with 
all  the  honest  freedom  of  a  Christian  minister,  and  yet  with 
such  prudence  as  to  give  no  offence. 

Although  a  zealous  Protestant,  he  is  said  to  have  been  much 
esteemed,  on  account  of  his  integrity  and  abilities,  by  James  II. ; 
to  whose  successors,  William  and  Mary,  he  rendered  himself 
particularly  acceptable,  by  his  moderation  towards  the  dissent- 


.    ARCHBISHOP   TENISON.  387 

ers.  Soon  after  the  Revolution,  he  was  made  archdeacon  of 
London ;  and,  having  displayed  great  zeal  in  a  project,  that 
was  shortly  afterwards  brought  forward,  for  reconciling  the 
various  Protestant  sects  to  the  established  church,  he  was  raised 
to  the  see  of  Lincoln,  in  1691.  It  is  related  that  Lord  Jersey, 
then  master  of  the  horse,  had  endeavoured  to  prevent  his  eleva- 
tion to  the  episcopal  bench,  by  reminding  Queen  Mary  that  he 
had  preached  a  funeral  sermon  for  the  celebrated  Nell  Gwynn. 
<'I  have  heard  as  much,"  replied  her  majesty;  "and  it  is  a 
sign  that  the  poor  unfortunate  woman  died  penitent ;  for,  if  I 
can  read  a  man's  heart  through  his  looks,  had  she  not  made  a 
truly  pious  and  Christian  end,  the  doctor  could  never  have  been 
induced  to  speak  well  of  her." 

In  1693,  he  was  offered  the  archbishopric  of  Dublin ;  which, 
however,  he  refused,  because  a  measure,  suggested  by  himself, 
and  to  which  the  king  was  favourable,  of  restoring  to  the  respect- 
ive parish  churches  the  impropriations  of  estates  forfeited  to  the 
crown,  could  not  be  accomplished.  In  the  following  year,  he 
was  raised  to  the  archbishopric  of  Canterbury ;  a  station  for 
which,  in  the  opinion  of  a  majority  of  his  contemporaries,  he  was 
eminently  qualified.  By  her  own  desire,  he  attended  Queen 
Mary  during  her  last  moments,  and  preached  her  funeral  sermon. 
Taking  advantage  of  the  serious  feelings,  which  the  death  of  his 
consort  produced  in  King  William,  Tenison  boldly  censured  him 
for  his  immoralities ;  and,  in  particular,  protested  with  such 
energy  against  the  monarch's  illicit  connection  with  Lady  Vil- 
liers,  that  his  majesty  promised  never  to  see  her  again. 

He  officiated  as  primate  at  the  coronation  of  Queen  Anne, 
with  whom  he  appears  to  have  been  by  no  means  a  favourite, 
although  he  had  strenuously  exerted  himself  to  procure  her  a 
proper  settlement  in  the  preceding  reign.  He,  doubtless,  ren- 
dered himself  obnoxious  to  her  majesty,  by  his  strong  inclination 
for  a  Protestant  succession ;  which,  in  1705,  induced  him  to 
enter  into  a  correspondence  with  the  Electress  Sophia.  In 
1706,  he  was  chosen  first  commissioner  for  efi'ecting  the  union 
with  Scotland ;  and,  on  the  death  of  Queen  Anne,  he  was  one 
of  those  who  were  appointed  to  take  charge  of  the  instrument, 
which  gave  the  new  monarch  power  to  appoint  a  regency,  until 
his  arrival  in  this  country.  He  did  not  long  survive  the  coro- 
nation of  George  I.,  at  which  he  officiated  as  primate;  his  death 


J88  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

Dccurring  on  the  14th  of  December,  1715.  He  was  buried  in 
Lambeth  church,  by  the  side  of  his  wife,  who  had  died  without 
fssue,  in  the  preceding  year. 

Archbishop  Tenison  published  an  able  treatise,  in  opposition  to 
the  opinions  of  Hobbes;  "Sir  Thomas  Browne's  Tracts;"  "  The 
Remains  of  Bacon  ;"  "A  Discourse  on  Idolatry;"  a  variety  of 
ermons,  and  a  number  of  tracts,  in  defence  of  the  established 
church  against  popery.  Of  preferment,  he  appears  to  have 
been  by  no  means  ambitious.  As  a  preacher,  he  was  plain,  but 
forcible ;  and,  as  a  writer,  clear  and  argumentative,  but  never 
brilliant.  The  parish  of  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields  is  indebted 
to  him  for  its  library ;  he  rebuilt  the  chancel  of  Topcroft  church, 
where  his  parents  were  buried ;  and,  after  having  been  eminently 
beneficent  throughout  life,  bequeathed  at  his  death  very  con- 
siderable sums  to  charitable  uses.  Macky  says  that  he  was  a 
plain,  good,  heavy  man  ;  very  tall;  of  a  fair  complexion  ;  and  a 
great  opponent  of  the  progress  of  popery,  in  the  reign  of  King 
James.  Swift,  doubtless  under  the  influence  of  party  rancour, 
terms  him  the  most  good-for-nothing  prelate,  and  the  dullest 
man  he  ever  knew.  The  witty  dean  is  also  reported  to  have 
originated  the  saying,  that  "  Tenison  was  as  hot  and  heavy  as 
a  tailor's  goose."  On  the  other  hand,  Baxter  regarded  him 
with  warm  admiration;  Burnet,  ignorant  of  Swift's  animosity 
towards  him,  declared  that  he  had  many  friends,  and  no  ene- 
mies ;  Kennett  speaks  of  him  as  having  been  exemplary  in  every 
station  of  life ;  the  anonymous  author  of  his  memoirs  states  that 
he  was  an  exact  pattern  of  that  exemplary  piety,  charity,  sted- 
fastness,  and  good  conduct,  requisite  in  a  governor  of  the  church  ; 
and  Garth,  alluding  to  his  elevation  to  the  primacy,  says: — 

Good  Tenison's  celestial  piety, 

At  last,  has  raised  him  to  the  sacred  see. 


WILLIAM   LAW  389 


i 


WILLIAM   LAW. 


^  ARIOUS  works  of  practical  divinity  were 
Q  produced  by  this  divine,  but  he  is  best  known 
-i  from  having  lived  in  the  family  of  Mr.  Gib- 
C  bon,  father  of  the  historian  Gibbon,  which 
|7<'  led  to  the  introduction  of  some  valuable 
III  notices  of  his  life,  habits,  and  opinions,  in  the 
beautiful  fragment  of  autobiography  which 
the  historian  prepared. 
He  was  born  in  Northamptonshire,  in  1686, 
went  to  Cambridge  with  a  view  of  entering  the 
If  church,  took  the  degrees  of  B.  A.  and  M.  A.,  was 
of  Emanuel  College,  and  in  1711  elected  a  Fellow. 
On  the  accession  of  King  George  I.,  he  refused  to 
take  the  oaths  prescribed  by  act  of  parliament,  and 
in  consequence  vacated  his  fellowship.  It  was  soon 
after  this  that  he  entered  the  family  of  Mr.  Gibbon, 
who  resided  at  Putney.  Here  he  continued  several  years,  and 
his  connection  with  the  family  became  perpetuated  to  his  death, 
in  consequence  of  a  design  Avhich  Miss  Hester  Gibbon,  the  sis- 
ter of  the  historian,  formed,  and  executed,  of  retiring  from  the 
world  in  company  with  her  friend  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Hutcheson, 
and  living  a  life  of  charity  and  piety,  with  Mr.  Law  for  their 
chaplain.  They  fixed  upon  King's  Cliff,  the  place  of  Mr.  Law's 
birth,  as  the  spot  to  which  they  retired,  and  there  Mr.  Law 
lived  the  last  twenty  years  of  his  life,  dying  April  9,  1761. 

Mr.  Law  was  the  author  of  various  works,  in  which  he  re- 
commends the  exercises  of  a  piety  which  approaches  to  the 
character  of  ascetic,  and  which  it  is  almost  impossible  for  any 
one  to  practise  who  is  not  in  a  great  degree  relieved  from  the 
necessity  of  attention  to  the  ordinary  business  of  life.  The 
most  popular  of  tbem  is  entitled  "A  Serious  Call  to  a  Devou' 
and  Holy  Life  " 


890 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JOHN   HOWARD. 


HIS  great  philanthropist  was  born  at  Clap- 
ton, near  London,  in  1726.  Of  his  earlj 
ife  little  is  known ;  but  there  is  reason  to 
believe  that  he  received  from  his  parents  in- 
struction in  the  principles  of  the  Christian 
religion.  When  quite  young,  he  lost  his 
mother;  his  days  at  school  were  limited,  and 
he  was  apprenticed  to  a  tradesman  in  London. 
The  pursuits  of  commerce  were  not  congenial  to 
his  taste  ;  nor  was  his  health  such  as  could  sustain 
systematic  confinement  to  the  counting-house.  The 
leath  of  his  father  aiforded  him  an  opportunity  to 
leave  the  situation,  and,  after  taking  possession  of 
his  patrimony,  he  entered  upon  a  course  of  reading 
and  travel,  two  things  of  which  he  was  passionately 
fond.  Having  spent  two  years  in  France  and  Italy,  he 
returned  to  England,  and  fixed  his  residence  near  by  London. 
Here  he  married,  and  soon  afterwards  entered  upon  some 
schemes  of  benevolence,  every  way  worthy  the  future  philan- 
thropist. After  a  happy  union  of  three  years,  his  wife  was 
parted  from  him  by  death,  and,  to  divert  his  thoughts  from  the 
loss,  he  resolved  on  another  tour  upon  the  Continent.  In  No- 
vember, 1755,  the  month  and  year  in  which  Mrs.  Howard  died, 
Lisbon  was  desolated  by  an  earthquake,  and  thousands  of  the 
Inhabitants  reduced  to  poverty.  The  heart  of  Howard  was 
wrung  by  the  accounts  received  concerning  these  unfortunate 
persons  ;  but,  instead  of  driving  the  painful  idea  from  his  mind, 
he  adopted  the  noble  resolution  of  visiting  Portugal  to  do  what 
he  coukl  for  the  sufferers. 

Howard  embarked  for  Lisbon  (1756)  in  the  Hanover.  The 
vessel  had  scarcely  cleared  the  Thames,  when  it  was  encoun- 
tered by  a  French  vessel,  captured,  and  its  prisoners  thrown 


JOHN   HOWARD  391 

into  the  hold.  After  much  suffering,  they  were  put  ashore  at 
Brest,  imprisoned  in  the  castle,  and,  during  six  days,  exposed 
to  the  rage  of  thirst  and  hunger.  At  the  end  of  that  time, 
Howard,  with  several  others,  was  sent  to  Morlaix,  and  thence 
to  Carpaix ;  but  he  bore  his  sufferings  with  so  much  fortitude 
as  to  enlist  many  Frenchmen  in  his  favour,  and  thereby  attained 
a  considerable  amelioration  of  his  condition.  The  remaining 
prisoners  at  Brest  and  Morlaix  w^ere  meanwhile  suffering  every 
extremity  of  distress.  These  places  were  the  receptacles  foi 
the  English  captured  by  French  vessels.  Hundreds  of  them 
perished  by  want  or  pestilence,  and  from  one  prison  thirty-six 
dead  bodies  were  thrown  into  a  pit  in  a  day.  Intelligence  of 
this  was  conveyed  by  letter  to  Mr.  Howard.  His  heart  bled 
at  the  sufferings  of  his  countrymen  ;  he  implored  leave  to  visit 
his  country,  and,  after  a  lapse  of  two  months,  permission  was 
granted,  on  condition  of  his  returning  to  France  if  the  English 
government  refused  to  exchange  for  him  one  of  the  French 
officers. 

On  arriving  at  London,  Howard  immediately  gave  the  go- 
vernment information  of  the  condition  of  his  captive  country- 
men. His  representations  awakened  the  sympathy  and  excited 
the  indignation  of  the  nation.  He  received  for  it  the  thanks 
of  parliament,  and  the  interference  in  behalf  of  the  prisoners 
at  Brest  and  Carpaix  resulted  in  a  mitigation  of  their  condi- 
tion, and  perhaps  the  saving  of  many  lives. 

In  1758,  Howard  again  married,  his  second  wife  being  a 
daughter  of  Henry  Leeds,  of  Cambridgeshire.  He  retired  with 
her  to  Cardington,  a  small  village  fifty-six  miles  from  London. 
There  he  spent  seven  years,  surrounded  by  the  various  fascina- 
tions of  a  rural  life,  and  devoting  his  time  to  reading,  garden- 
ing, and  the  exercise  of  benevolence.  This  peaceful  seclusion 
was  broken  upon  by  death.  Howard  wept  over  the  grave  of 
his  second  partner,  and  of  the  spell  w^hich  had  bound  him  to  the 
cottage-home  of  Cardington,  no  part  remained  save  an  infant 
son.  On  this  boy  Howard  now  concentrated  his  affections. 
He  taught  him  to  read,  carried  or  led  him  to  church,  and  in- 
structed him  in  the  elements  of  religion.  When  the  child  was 
five  years  old,  he  was  placed  under  the  instructions  of  an  aunt, 
and  a  few^  years  later  placed  at  school.  During  this  time,  his 
vacations  were  spent  at  Cardington,  and,  until  the  time  of  en- 


392  LIVES    OF    EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

tering  college,  he  manifested  for  his  father  an  affection  as  pleas- 
ing in  himself  as  honourable  to  his  parent. 

After  his  wife's  death,  and  during  the  infancy  of  his  son, 
Howard  spent  a  large  portion  of  his  time  in  travelling  upon 
the  Continent.  His  journeys  were  not  idle  rambles,  nor  means 
of  dissipation  and  folly.  Everywhere  he  sought  opportunities 
of  doing  good,  and  his  soul  appears  to  have  been  pervaded  with 
a  deep  sense  of  unworthiness,  and  a  desire  to  do  good  to  others. 
"0  my  soul,"  he  wrote  in  Italy,  ''keep  close  to  God  in  the 
amiable  light  of  redeeming  love,  and,  amid  the  snares  thou  art 
particularly  exposed  to  in  a  country  of  such  wickedness  and 
folly,  stand  thou  in  awe  and  sin  not ;  commune  with  thine  own 
heart ;  see  what  progress  thou  makest  in  thy  religious  journey. 
Art  thou  nearer  the  heavenly  Canaan  ?  Is  the  vital  flame 
burning  clearer  and  clearer  ?  Or  are  the  concerns  of  a  moment 
engrossing  thy  foolish  heart  ?  Stop  :  remember  thou  art  a 
candidate  for  eternity  ;  daily  fervently  pray  for  wisdom  ;  lift 
up  your  heart  and  eyes  to  the  Rock  of  Ages,  and  then  look  down 
on  the  glory  of  this  world.  A  little  while  and  thy  journey 
will  be  ended."  Never,  perhaps,  did  uninspired  pen  approach 
nearer  the  style  and  spirit  of  St.  Paul.  In  the  same  style  he 
spoke  of  the  corruption  of  his  heart.  ^'AYhen  I  consider  and 
look  upon  my  heart,  I  doubt,  I  tremble.  Such  a  vile  creature 
— sin,  folly,  and  imperfection  in  every  action — 0  dreadful 
thought  I — a  body  of  sin  and  death  I  carry  about  me,  ever 
ready  to  depart  from  God,  and,  with  all  the  dreadful  catalogue 
of  sins  committed,  my  heart  faints  within  me  and  almost  de- 
spairs. *  *  =^  Shall  I  limit,"  he  afterwards  adds,  "  the  grace 
of  God  ?  Can  I  fathom  his  goodness  ?  Here,*  on  his  sacred 
day,  I  once  more,  in  the  dust,  before  the  eternal  God,  acknow- 
ledge my  sins  heinous  and  aggravated  in  his  sight.  I  would 
have  the  deepest  sorrow  and  contrition  of  heart,  and  cast  my 
guilty  and  polluted  soul  on  thy  sovereign  mercy  in  the  Re- 
deemer. 0  compassionate  and  divine  Redeemer,  save  me  from 
the  dreadful  guilt  and  power  of  sin,  and  accept  of  my  solemn, 
free,  and,  I  trust,  unreserved,  full  surrender  of  my  soul,  my 
spirit,  my  dear  child,  all  I  have  and  am  into  thy  hands."  These 
extracts  exhibit  the  cause  and  the  support  of  that  spirit  of  phi- 
lanthropy which  has  excited  the  wonder  of  the  civilized  world. 

After  returning  to  Enirland.   Howard  was,  in  1778,  rnado 


.TOHX    HOWARD.  393 

High  SlierifF  of  Bedfordshire.  He,  in  common  with  man}^  good 
men,  had  long  believed  that  the  inmates  of  the  public  prisons 
were  exposed  to  extremes  of  want  and  suffering.  His  office  en- 
abled him  to  inquire  into  the  matter,  and  the  result  of  the  in- 
quiry must  have  shocked  a  mind  framed  as  was  his.  Details 
of  those  dens  of  crime  and  lingering  death,  the  prisons  of  Eu- 
rope, would  sicken  the  attentive  reader ;  but  a  glance  at  some 
of  the  enormities  perpetrated  upon  the  victims,  may  impart  a 
faint  idea  of  their  condition.  Of  the  miserable  pit'tance  of 
bread  they  were,  to  a  great  extent,  deprived  by  the  rapacity  of 
the  jailors,  who,  being  brutes  in  human  form,  could  look  with 
cold  indifference  upon  the  writhings  of  agony  or  the  gaspings 
of  hunger.  Some  lay  on  the  damp  ground ;  some  on  straw, 
matted  and  baked  with  filth  ;  some  in  corners,  whose  loathsome- 
ness may  not  be  mentioned  ;  all  raging  with  the  pangs  of  thirst 
and  hunger.  Jail  fever,  that  boon  to  the  wretched  prisoner, 
swept  them  away  by  scores.  The  stench  of  corpses  ;  the  dank, 
pestilential  air ;  the  dampness  of  the  dungeon  walls ;  deprived 
others  of  the  use  of  their  limbs  and  of  reason.  In  some  places 
the  prison-grounds  were  saturated  with  stagnant  water.  In 
one  prison  it  was  customary  to  chain  the  prisoners  on  their 
backs  upon  the  floor  by  an  iron-spiked  collar  around  the  neck, 
and  a  heavy  bar  over  the  extremities.  Men  accused  of  murder, 
and  men  acquitted  of  all  crime,  the  highway  robber,  and  the 
debtor  to  five  shillings  ;  those  who  had  defrauded  of  millions, 
and  those  who  could  not  pay  the  jailor  a  freedom-fee ;  the  dis- 
eased, the  maniac,  the  broken-hearted ;  were  mixed  and  min- 
gled together. 

Such  was  the  operation  of  the  British  prison  system,  when 
Howard  became  High  Sheriff  of  Bedfordshire.  He  shuddered 
at  the  misery ;  he  resolved  to  ameliorate  it,  and  in  one  year  he 
visited  the  various  prisons  of  the  United  Kingdom,  consoling 
and  aiding  the  captives,  noting  down  faithful  records  of  their 
sufferings,  and  forming  a  plan  for  a  thorough  reformation  of 
the  prison  system.  His  attention  was  next  directed  to  the  Con- 
tinent. In  April,  1775,  he  went  to  France,  and  thence  to 
Flanders,  Holland,  and  Germany,  visiting  in  his  route  hundreds 
of  prisons,  and  noting  down  his  observations,  as  he  did  in  Eng- 
land. '^With  the  utmost  difficulty,"  he  wrote  from  German}^ 
*'  did  I  get  access  to  many  dismal  "abodes,  and,  through  the 
60 


394  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

hand  of  God,  I  have  been  preserved  in  health  and  safety. 
Though  conscious  of  the  utmost  weakness,  imperfection,  and 
follv,  I  would  hope  my  heart  deceives  me  not  when  I  say  to 
my  friend,  I  trust  I  intend  well.  The  great  example — the  glo- 
rious and  divine  Saviour — the  first  thought  humbles  and  abases ; 
yet,  blessed  be  God,  it  exalts  and  rejoices  in  that  infinite  and 
boundless  source  of  love  and  mercy." 

On  his  return  to  England,  Howard  prepared  his  great  work 
oh  ''  Th*e  State  of  the  Prisons  in  England  and  AYales."  In  this 
book  he  describes,  as  Howard  only  could  describe,  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  prisoners  from  want  of  food :  the  loss  of  health  and 
life,  through  impure  air  and  accumulations  of  filth  ;  the  jail 
fever  ;  and  the  evils  of  the  system  which  caused  jailors  to  de- 
pend for  a  living  on  money  extorted  from  the  prisoners  rather 
than  a  regular  salary.  He  denounced  the  English  prison  sys- 
tem as  a  disgrace  to  the  country,  showed  how  it  might  be  re- 
medied, and  that  its  improvement  would  benefit  the  country  in 
a  pecuniary  degree,  as  well  as  on  the  score  of  humanity.  This 
work  was  printed  in  1777.  It  produced  a  deep  sensation 
throughout  the  kingdom,  and  to  its  appearance  we  may  refer 
the  commencement  of  the  great  reform  in  English  prison  dis- 
cipline. 

His  book  was  scarcely  issued,  when  the  author  began  anotlier 
tour  of  benevolence  through  Great  Britain,  and,  in  the  remain- 
ing  thirteen  years  of  his  life,  we  find  him  repeating  that  journey 
several  times,  and  making  five  different  journeys  to  the  Conti- 
nent. When  the  plague  broke  out  with  fearful  violence  in  the 
countries  around  Turkey,  he  fearlessly  entered  the  sphere  of 
its  ravages,  studied  in  every  place,  amid  scenes  and  dangers 
which  would  have  appalled  the  courage  of  the  boldest  soldier, 
and,  in  the  character  of  a  physician,  personally  administered 
relief  to  thousands.  He  left  Enorlaiid  for  the  last  time  in  July, 
1789,  his  object  being  to  ascertain,  if  possible,  the  real  nature 
of  the  plague,  with  a  view  of  applying  a  certain  remedy.  He 
landed  in  Holland,  passed  through  Germany  and  Prussia,  and 
reached  Moscow  in  September.  All  the  prisons  and  liospitals 
in  his  way  were  flung  open  to  him.  "The  hospitals,"  he  wrote 
from  Moscow,  "  are  in  a  sad  state.  UpAvards  of  seventy  thou- 
sand sailors  and  recruits  died  in  them  last  year.  I  labour  to 
convey  tlie  torch  of  philanthropy  into  these  distant  regions,  as 


JOHN   HOWARD.  395 

in  God's  hand  no  instrument  is  weak,  and  in  whose  presence  no 
flesh  must  glory.  *  *  *  My  medical  acquaintance  give  me  but 
little  hope  of  escaping  the  plague  in  Turkey  ;  but  my  spirits  do 
not  at  all  fail  me,  and,  indeed,  I  do  not  look  back,  but  would 
readily  endure  any  hardships  and  encounter  any  dangers  to  be 
an  honour  to  my  Christian  profession."  Soon  after  writing 
this  letter,  Howard  travelled  several  hundred  miles  through 
Russia,  and  reached  Cherson  on  the  Black  Sea.  His  fame  as 
a  physician  and  a  philanthropist  had  preceded  him,  and,  among 
the  numerous  visits  that  he  was  called  upon  to  make,  was  one 
to  a  young  lady  ill  of  fever.  Her  residence  was  twenty-four 
miles  from  Cherson.  Howard  went ;  his  efforts  to  save  her 
life  were  vain,  and  he  himself  fell  a  victim  to  the  disease, 
among  whose  ravages  he  had  so  long  moved  unscathed.  He 
was  buried  by  his  own  request  about  eight  miles  from  Cherson  ; 
but,  under  the  epitaph  of  his  Henrietta  at  Cardington,  is  graven 
another  written  by  himself.  It  reads,  <<John  Howard,  died 
January  20th,  1790.     My  hope  is  in  Christ." 


396 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 


WILLIAM   COWPER. 


ILLIAM,  son  of  the  Reverend  Dr.  John  Cow- 

per,  chaplain  to  George  the  Second,  was  born 
at  Berkhampstead,  in  Hertfordshire,  of  which 
place  his  father  was  rector,  on  the  26th  of 
November,  1731.  He  received  the  earliest 
rudiments  of  education  at  a  day-school  in  his 
native  village ;  and  in  his  seventh  year,  at 
which  time  he  lost  his  mother,  he  was  placed 
under  the  care  of  Dr.  Pitnam,  of  Market  street, 
where  he  remained  about  eighteen  months,  when 
he  was  removed,  in  consequence  of  some  specks 
'^  appearing  in  his  eyes,  from  which  blindness  was  ap- 
prehended. "  My  father,"  he  says  in  one  of  his 
letters,  ''  alarmed  for  the  consequences,  sent  me  to  a 
female  oculist,  of  great  renown  at  that  time,  in  whose 
house  I  abode  two  years,  but  to  no  good  purpose. 
From  her  I  went  to  Westminster  school,  where,  at  the  age  of 
fourteen,  the  small-pox  seized  me,  and  proved  the  better  oculist 
of  the  two,  for  it  delivered  me  from  them  all."  During  his 
stay  at  this  school,  he  was  remarkable  alike  for  his  close  atten- 
tion to  his  studies,  and  his  gentle  disposition,  which  exposed 
him  to  insults  and  cruelties  from  his  school-fellows,  that  he  never 
recollected  but  with  anguish.  His  own  forcible  expression,  says 
his  biographer,  Hayley,  represented  him  at  Westminster,  as  not 
daring  to  raise  his  eye  above  the  shoe-buckle  of  the  elder  boys. 
He  left  Westminster  in  1749  ;  and,  about  three  months  after- 
wards, was  placed  with  Mr.  Chapman,  a  solicitor,  in  London ; 
but,  from  the  following  passage  in  a  letter  to  a  relative,  Lady 
Hesketh,  he  does  not  appear  to  have  paid  much  attention  to 
legal  studies.  He  says,  in  a  playful  remonstrance — ''  I  did  ac- 
•:iially  live  three  years  with  Mr.  Chap7nan,  a  solicitor,  that  is  to 


WILLIAM   COWPER.  397 

say,  I  slept  three  years  in  his  house ;  but  I  lived,  thai  is  to  say, 
I  spent  my  days  in  Southampton  Row,  as  you  very  well  remem- 
ber. There  was  I,  and  the  future  lord-chancellor,  (Thurlow,) 
constantly  employed  from  morning  till  night  in  giggling  and 
making  giggle,  instead  of  studying  law."  On  leaving  Mr. 
Chapman,  he  took  chambers  in,  and  became  a  student  of,  the 
Middle  Temple ;  and,  forming  an  intimacy  with  his  school-fel- 
lows, the  elder  Colman,  Bonnell  Thornton,  and  Lloyd,  he 
assisted  the  two  first  in  their  celebrated  periodical,  '<  The  Con- 
noisseur;" and  otherwise  indulged  his  taste  for  the  belles  lettres, 
both  in  prose  and  poetry. 

Success  at  the  bar,  with  Cowper's  frame  of  mind,  his  friends 
had  little  hopes  of,  and,  therefore,  procured  for  him  the  situa- 
tion of  reading-clerk,  and  clerk  of  the  private  committees  in 
the  House  of  Lords,  to  which  he  was  appointed  in  his  thirty-first 
year.  Being  unable,  however,  to  undergo  the  torture,  as  he 
called  it,  of  reading  in  public,  he  resigned  these  offices  after  a 
week's  struggle,  and  accepted  that  of  clerk  of  the  journals,  in 
which  it  was  supposed  his  personal  appearance  would  not  be  re- 
quired in  the  House  of  Lords.  A  parliamentary  dispute,  how- 
ever, making  it  necessary  for  him  to  appear  at  the  bar  of  the 
house,  that  his  fitness  for  the  employment  might  be  publicly  ac- 
knowledged, his  nerves  were  so  wrought  upon  by  the  idea  of 
such  a  public  exhibition  of  himself,  which  he  called  a  mortal 
poison,  that  the  strength  of  his  reason  gave  way,  and  on  the 
arrival  of  the  period  for  his  appearance,  he  was  no  longer  in 
possession  of  his  intellectual  powers.  In  this  distressing  state, 
^t  was  found  necessary  to  place  him  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Cot- 
ton, in  an  asylum  at  St.  Albans,  where  he  remained  from  De- 
cember, 1763,  until  the  July  of  the  following  year,  in  a  state 
of  mental  aberration,  and  of  a  religious  despondency  to  such  a 
■degree,  that  he  is  said  to  have  been  in  continual  expectation  of 
being  instantly  plunged  into  eternal  punishment.  His  mind  at 
length  becoming  more  composed,  he  began  to  derive  consolation 
from  those  truths  which  had  before  seemed  so  terrible  to  him ; 
and  at  the  invitation  of  his  brother  John,  a  clergyman,  and  fel- 
low of  Cambridge,  he  removed  to  Huntingdon,  in  order  to  be 
near  him.  He  had  not  been  long  here  before  his  acquaintance 
commenced  with  the  Unwins,  into  whose  family  he  was  intro- 
duced by  Mr.  Cawthorne  Unwin,  who,  struck  with  the  appear- 

■2  L 


398  LIVES   OF   EMIXENT   CimiSTIANS. 

ance  of  Cowper,  had  accosted  him  during  a  walk,  whicli  was  the 
beginning  of  their  subsequent  intimacy.  He  continued  to  re- 
side with  them  in  their  house  at  Huntingdon,  until  the  death 
of  the  elder  Mr.  Unwin,  in  July,  1767,  to  which  our  author  thus 
alludes  in  a  letter  to  Lady  Hesketh.  ''  The  effect  of  it  upon 
my  circumstances  will  only  be  a  change  of  the  place  of  my 
abode  ;  for  I  shall  still,  by  God's  leave,  continue  with  Mrs. 
Unwin,  whose  behaviour  to  me  has  always  been  that  of  a  mother 
to  a  son."  With  this  lady  (the  Mary  of  his  poems)  and  her 
daughter,  he  removed  in  the  following  October,  to  Olney,  in 
Buckinghamshire,  on  the  solicitation  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Newton, 
the  rector  of  that  place,  and  with  whom  Cowper  formed  one  of 
the  most  close  and  delightful  friendships  of  his  life.  Religious 
meditation  and  the  exercise  of  charity,  in  which  he  was  en- 
couraged by  an  annual  allowance,  for  that  purpose,  of  X200  a 
year,  from  John  Thornton,  Esquire,  formed  his  chief  occupa- 
tion; and,  writing  to  decline  the  invitation  of  a  friend,  in  1769, 
he  says,  he  "prefers  his  home  to  any  other  spot  on  earth." 
xVmong  other  employments,  he  composed  sixty-eight  hymns, 
which  were  inserted  in  Mr.  Newton's  collections,  and  he  per- 
sonally directed  the  prayers  and  devotions  of  the  poor.  Such 
a  life,  however,  had  a  tendency  to  increase  the  morbid  propen- 
sity of  his  frame,  which  was  increased,  in  March,  1770,  by  the 
death  of  his  brother  John,  whom  he  had  taken  great  pains  to 
imbue  with  his  oavr  religious  views,  and,  after  some  difficulty, 
succeeded.  In  1773,  he  "  sunk  into  such  severe  paroxysms  of 
religious  despondency,"  says  Hayley,  "  that  he  required  an  at- 
tendant of  the  most  gentle,  vigilant,  and  inflexibl-e  spirit;"  and, 
he  adds,  "  such  an  attendant  he  found  in  his  faithful  guardian, 
Mrs.  Unwin,  who  watched  over  him  during  this  long  fit  of  de- 
pressive malady,  extended  through  several  years,  with  that 
perfect  mixture  of  tenderness  and  fortitude,  which  constitutes 
the  inestimable  influence  of  maternal  protection." 

In  the  beginning  of  1778,  his  mind  began  to  recover  itself; 
but,  before  it  was  sufficiently  established  to  allow  of  his  return 
to  literary  pursuits,  he  amused  himself  in  educating  a  group  of 
tame  hares,  an  account  of  which  he  wrote  in  prose  for  "  The  Gen- 
tleman's Magazine."  In  the  summer  of  the  same  year,  having 
completely  regained  the  use  of  his  faculties,  he  resumed  his  cor- 
respondence with  his  friends,  and  diverted  himself  by  drawing, 


WILLIAM  COWPER.  399 

carpentering,  and  gardening.  "I  am  pleased,"  he  says  in  a 
letter,  dated  1780,  to  Mr.  Newton,  who  had  removed  to  London, 
"  with  a  frame  of  four  lights,  doubtful  whether  the  few  pines  it 
contains  will  ever  be  worth  a  farthing ;  amuse  myself  with  a 
green-house,  which  Lord  Bute's  gardener  could  take  upon  his 
back,  and  walk  away  with ;  and  when  I  have  paid  it  the  accus 
tomed  visit,  and  watered  it,  and  given  it  air,  I  say  to  myself — 
'  This  is  not  mine ;  'tis  a  plaything  lent  me  for  the  present :  I 
must  leave  it  soon.'  "  In  the  last-mentioned  and  the  following 
year  he  v/rote  several  poems,  besides  a  translation  of  some  of 
the  spiritual  songs  of  Madame  Guion ;  and,  in  1782,  an  octavo 
volume  was  published,  at  the  expense  of  Johnson,  of  St.  Paul's 
Church-yard,  who  took  the  whole  risk  upon  himself.  The  prin- 
cipal subjects  are  Table  Talk,  The  Progress  of  Error,  Truth, 
Expostulation,  Hope,  Retirement,  Charity,  and  Conversation, 
by  which  he  at  once  established  his  reputation  as  a  poet,  though 
they  gained  him  no  popularity.  His  eulogy  on  Whitefield,  who 
at  that  time  was  looked  upon  as  a  fanatic ;  his  acrimonious  cen- 
sure of  Charles  Wesley,  for  allowing  sacred  music  to  form  part 
of  his  occupation  on  Sundays,  and  other  occasional  touches  of 
austerity,  excited  prejudices  against  his  first  volume,  the  merit 
of  which  deserved  a  success  it  did  not  meet  with. 

About  a  year  preceding  the  publication  of  his  first  volume 
of  poems,  Cowper  formed  an  acquaintance  with  Ladj^  Austen, 
widow  of  Sir  Robert  Austen,  who  exercised  a  very  happy  in- 
fluence over  his  genius.  To  his  intimacy  with  this  lady  we  are 
indebted  for  his  famous  poem  of  John  Gilpin,  the  story  of  which 
she  related  to  him  one  night,  for  the  purpose  of  arousing  hig 
spirits  from  their  almost  habitual  gloom.  "Its  effect  on  the 
fancy  of  Cowper,"  says  Hayley,  "had  the  air  of  enchantment; 
he  informed  her  the  next  morning,  that  convulsions  of  laughter, 
brought  on  by  his  recollections  of  the  story,  had  kept  him  wak- 
ing during  the  greatest  part  of  the  night,  and  that  he  had  turned 
it  into  a  ballad."  It  was  first  printed,  it  appears,. in  the  Public 
Advertiser,  to  which  paper  it  was  sent  by  Mrs.  Unwin  ;  where 
the  late  Mr.  Henderson,  the  actor,  happening  to  see  it,  con- 
ceiving it  eminently  qualified  to  display  his  rich  comic  powers, 
he  read  it  at  the  Freemason's  Hall,  in  the  course  of  entertain- 
ments given  there  by  himself  and  the  late  Thomas  Sheridan. 
It  then  became  extremely  popular  among  all  classes  Df  readers  ^ 


400  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

but  it  was  not  known  to  be  Cowper's  till  it  was  added  to  his 
second  volume.  At  Lady  Austen's  suggestion,  he  also  com- 
posed "  The  Task ;"  promising,  one  day,  to  write  if  she  would  fur- 
nish the  subject.  "  Oh  I"  she  is  said  to  have  replied,  "you  can 
never  be  in  want  of  a  subject :  you  can  write  upon  any : — write 
upon  this  sofa !" 

In  1784,  he  began  his  translation  of  Homer,  and  in  the  same 
year  terminated  his  intercourse  with  Lady  Austen,  whose  lively 
interest  in  the  poet  had  excited  a  jealousy  in  the  breast  of  Mrs. 
Unwin,  who,  feeling  herself  eclipsed,  says  Mr.  Hayley,  by  the 
brilliancy  of  the  poet's  new  friend,  began  to  fear  her  mental 
influence  over  him.  Cowper  now  felt  that  he  must  either  relin- 
quish his  ancient  friend,  whom  he  regarded  with  the  love  of  a 
child,  or  his  new  associate,  whom  he  idolized  with  the  aifection 
of  a  sister,  and  whose  heart  and  mind  were  peculiarly  congenial 
to  his  own.  Gratitude  determined  him  how  to  act ;  and,  with 
a  resolution  and  delicacy,  adds  Mr.  Hayley,  that  did  the  high 
est  honour  to  his  feelings,  he  wrote  an  explanatory  farewell 
letter  to  Lady  Austen,  which  she  lamented,  when  applied  to  by 
his  biographer  for  a  copy,  that,  in  a  moment  of  natural  morti- 
fication, she  had  burnt.  In  1785,  appeared  his  second  volume 
of  poems,  including  The  Task,  Tirocinium,  The  Epistle  to  Jo 
seph  Hill,  Esquire,  and  the  diverting  History  of  John  Gilpin. 
The  translation  of  his  Homer,  amid  various  interruptions,  was 
3ontinued  at  intervals,  and  was  published  in  two  volumes,  quar- 
to, in  1791.  During  the  composition  of  this  work,  it  is  said, 
ne  at  first  declined,  as  he  had  done  in  the  progress  of  his  other 
works,  showing  specimens  to  his  friends  ;  and  when  Mr.  Unwin 
informed  him  that  a  gentleman  wanted  a  sample,  he  humorous- 
ly replied,  "When  I  deal  in  wine,  cloth,  or  cheese,  I  will  give 
samples ;  but  of  verse,  never.  No  consideration,"  he  added, 
"  would  have  induced  me  to  comply  with  the  gentleman's  de- 
mand, unless  he  could  have  assured  me  that  his  wife  had  longed." 
Though  the  first  edition  was  quickly  disposed  of,  the  genera.' 
reception  of  his  Homer  was  not  such  as  to  answer  his  expecta- 
tions. He,  therefore  began  a  revision  of  it ;  and  about  the  same 
time  meditated  an  edition  of  Milton's  works,  and  a  new  didactic 
poem,  to  be  called  "  The  Four  Ages."  His  mental  powers,  how- 
ever, being  again  impaired  by  a  relapse  of  his  old  malady,  he 
became  totally  incapacitated  from  pursuing  these  and  all  other 


WILLIAM   COWPER.  401 

literary  pursuits.  In  this  situation  he  was  visited  by  Lady  Hes- 
keth,  who  paid  him  the  same  attention  he  had  hitherto  received 
from  Mrs.  Unwin,  who  was  now  in  a  state  of  second  childhood, 
and  as  imbecile  as  the  poet  himself.  In  1794,  a  pension  of 
.£300  per  annum  was  procured  for  him  from  government, 
through  the  influence  of  Earl  Spencer  ;  and  shortly  afterwards 
he  was  removed,  together  with  Mrs.  Unwin,  by  his  friend  and 
kinsman,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Johnson,  to  Dereham,  in  Norfolk.  Here, 
in  1796,  he  lost  Mrs.  Unwin  ;  and  from  1797  to  1799  he  com- 
pleted, by  snatches,  the  revisal  of  his  Homer,  and  was  sensible 
enough  to  compose  a  few  original  verses,  and  to  resume  his  cor- 
respondence with  Lady  Hesketh.  In  the  beginning  of  1800, 
he  exhibited  symptoms  of  dropsy,  which  made  such  rapid  progress 
that  it  terminated  his  existence  on  the  following  25th  of  April. 
His  remains  were  deposited  in  St.  Edmund's  Chapel,  in  Dere- 
ham Church,  where  Lady  Hesketh  caused  a  marble  tablet  to  be 
erected  to  his  memory,  on  which  were  inscribed  some  elegant 
verses  from  Mr.  Hayley's  pen. 

The  whole  figure  and  appearance  of  Cowper  were  interesting ; 
it  might  be  seen  at  first  sight  that  he  was  what  is  called  well* 
bred ;  and  even  a  momentary  observer  could  not  fail  to  perceive 
that  he  was  a  man  of  no  ordinary  mind.  Like  Pope  and  some 
others,  he  was  precocious  in  the  display  of  talent,  though  it  was 
not  till  he  had  attained  the  age  of  fifty  that  he  wrote  with  a 
view  to  publication.  His  first  poetical  production  is  stated  to 
have  been  a  translation  of  a  poem  of  Tibullus,  made  at  the  age 
of  fourteen  ;  but,  as  little  more  of  his  juvenile  poetry  has  been 
preserved  than  the  above,  all  the  steps  of  his  progress  to  that 
perfection  which  produced  "  The  Task,"  cannot  now  be  traced.  It 
is  to  be  regretted  that  the  selfishness  of  Mrs.  Unwin  put  an  end 
to  his  intimacy  with  Lady  Austen,  as  her  conversation  greatly 
enlivened  his  social  hours,  and  embraced  that  variety  of  subject, 
which,  more  than  any  thing,  tended  to  keep  off  his  natural 
gloom.  The  slowness  with  which  he  composed  his  Homer,  and 
his  abandonment  of  some  of  his  literary  designs,  may  be  at- 
tributed to  other  causes  than  mental  imbecility.  "  So  long," 
he  says  in  one  of  his  letters,  "  as  I  am  pleased  with  an  em- 
ployment, I  am  capable  of  unwearied  application,  because  my 
'celings  are  all  of  the  intense  kind  :  I  never,"  he  adds,  "received 
a  little  pleasure  from  any  thing  in  my  life ;  if  I  am  delighted, 
5]  2l2 


402  LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

it  is  in  the  extreme.  The  unhappy  consequence  of  this  temper- 
ament is,  that  mj  attachment  to  anj  occupation  seldom  outlivea 
the  novelty  of  it."  In  Cowper,  the  virtues  of  the  man  and  the 
genius  of  the  poet  were  inseparable  ;  in  every  thing  he  did,  said, 
or  wrote,  his  aim  was  the  promotion  of  the  highest  interests  of 
mankind, — the  advancement  of  religion  and  morality.  His 
biographers  agree  in  ascribing  to  him  a  vigour  of  sentiment  and 
a  knowledge  of  human  nature,  scarcely  equalled,  and  rarely, 
if  ever,  surpassed  by  any  of  the  British  poets. 

Fox,  in  speaking  of  "  The  Task,"  says,  that  the  author  has,  in 
a  great  degree,  reconciled  him  to  blank  verse,  and  that  there 
are  few  things  superior  to  that  poem  in  our  language ;  while 
Gilbert  Wakefield  as  vehemently  condemns  his  Homer,  and  calls 
the  beginning  of  the  tenth  Odyssey,  the  most  calamitous  speci- 
men of  want  of  ear  that  ever  came  under  his  notice.  Without 
doubt,  the  general  effect  of  the  work  is  bald  and  prosaic,  but  it 
exceeds  Pope's  translation  in  fidelity  and  exactness.  A  writer 
in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  in  comparing  the  merits  of  Pope  and 
Cowper,  says,  "  Scarcely  a  particle  of  breath  divine  inspires  the 
blank  and  frigid  version  of  the  latter ;  he  is  more  correct  than 
Pope  in  giving  the  mere  sense  of  the  original,  but  to  its  tone  and 
spirit,  he  is,  in  a  different  manner,  equally  unfaithful."  The 
man  of  genius,  however,  (adds  the  same  author,^  the  scholar,  and 
the  critic,  the  man  of  the  world,  and  the  moral  and  pious  man, 
all  found  in  the  works  of  Cowper  something  to  excite  their  sur- 
prise ;  something  to  admire ;  something  congenial  with  their 
habits  of  taste,  feeling,  and  judgment ;  and  succeeding  years  of 
familiar  intercourse  with  his  writings  have  led  posterity  to  con- 
template him  as  one  of  the  best  of  men,  and  most  favoured  of 
poets. 


JAMES  HERVEY. 


403 


JAMES   HERVEY. 


N  the  26th  of  February,  1713-14.  This  cele- 
brated writer,  the  son  of  a  clergyman,  was 
born,  at  Hardingstone,  near  Northampton. 
At  seven  years  of  age,  he  was  sent  to  the  free 
grammar  school  of  that  city,  where,  it  is  said, 
his  genius  and  memory  would  have  made  him 
a  much  greater  proficient,  but  for  the  extra- 
ordinary whim  of  his  teacher,  who  would  allow 
no  boy  to  learn  faster  than  his  own  son. 
In  1731,  he  entered  a  student  of  Lincoln 
College,  Oxford,  where  he  continued  to  reside  for 
about  seven  years,  but  only  proceeded  to  the  degree 
of  B.  A  Among  the  books  he  read  during  this  time 
were  Keil's  Anatomy ;  Derham's  Physico-Theologico, 
And  astro-Theology;  and  Spence's  Essay  on  Pope's 
Odyssey,  to  which,  he  used  to  say,  he  owed  more  of  his 
improvement  of  style  and  composition  than  to  any  other  work 
he  ever  read.  At  the  age  of  twenty-three,  he  entered  into 
deacon's  orders,  and  being  urged  by  his  father  to  get  a  curacy 
in  or  near  Oxford,  that  he  might  retain  a  small  college  exhibition 
of  the  value  of  about  X20  per  annum,  he  declined,  saying, 
''that  he  thought  it  unjust  to  retain  it  after  he  was  in  orders, 
as  some  other  person  might  want  its  aid,  to  further  his  educa- 
tion.*' He  accordingly,  in  1736,  accepted  the  curacy  of  Dum- 
mer,  in  Hampshire,  where  he  continued  about  a  year,  when  he 
was  invited  to  Stoke  Abbey,  in  Devonshire,  the  seat  of  his 
friend,  Paul  Orchard,  Esq. ;  during  his  residence  with  whom, 
he,  in  1740,  became  curate  of  Bideford.  Here,  his  stipend 
being  small,  he  was  so  much  beloved,  that  the  parishioners  in- 
creased it  to  £60  a  year,  by  an  annual  subscription;  and  offered 
to  maintain  him  at  their  own  expense,  to  prevent  his  dismissal 
by  a  now  rector,  who,  however,  deprived  him  of  his  curacy  in 


404  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

1742.  In  the  following  year,  he  became  curate  to  his  father, 
then  holding  the  living  of  Weston  Favell,  as  well  as  that  of 
Collingtree,  to  both  of  which  he  succeeded  on  the  death  of  the 
former,  in  1752.  He  accepted  the  two  livings  together,  with 
much  reluctance,  and,  on  waiting  upon  the  Bishop  of  Peter- 
borough, for  institution,*  he  said,  "  I  suppose  your  lordship  will 
be  surprised  to  see  James  Hervey  come  to  desire  your  lordship 
to  permit  him  to  be  a  pluralist ;  but  I  assure  you  I  do  it  to 
satisfj^  the  repeated  solicitations  of  my  mother,  and  my  sister, 
and  not  to  please  myself."  Our  author  had  already  established 
his  literary  reputation,  by  the  publication  of  his  celebrated 
Meditations,  the  first  volume  of  which  appeared  in  1746,  and 
the  second  in  1747.  He  appears  to  have  formed  the  plan  of 
this  work  during  his  residence  in  Devonshire,  his  "  Meditations 
among  the  Tombs"  being  suggested  to  him  by  a  visit  to  the 
church-yard  of  Kilhampton,  in  Cornwall. 

After  his  accession  to  his  father's  livings,  he  graduated  M.A. 
at  Clare  Hall,  Cambridge;  and  about  the  same  time  published 
"  Remarks  on  Lord  Bolingbroke's  Letters  on  the  Study  and  Use 
of  History,"  which,  observes  Simpson,  in  his  Plea,  "  contains 
many  pious  and  satisfactory  observations  on  the  history  of  the 
Old  Testament,  especially  on  the  writings  of  Moses." 

In  1753,  he  published  his  Theron  and  Aspasio,  in  three 
volumes,  octavo,  the  success  of  which  nearly  equalled  that  of 
his  Meditations,  whilst  it  brought  him  into  a  controversy  with 
the  famous  Wesley,  who  opposed  him  on  account  of  his  Calvi- 
nistic  sentiments. 

The  life  of  this  excellent  man  was  now  drawing  to  an  end, 
which  his  great  exertions  in  the  pulpit  and  the  study  materially 
contributed  to  hasten.  He  died  of  a  decline,  after  extreme  suf- 
fering, which  he  bore  with  singular  fortitude,  on  the  25th  of 
December,  1758. 

The  subject  of  our  memoir  was  at  once  an  elegant  scholar, 
a  learned  divine,  and  a  Christian,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the 
word.  The  bias  of  his  mind  may  be  collected  from  the  follow 
ing  passage  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  a  short  time  previous  to  his 
death: — "I  have  been,"  he  says,  "too  fond  of  reading  every 
thing  valuable  and  elegant  that  has  been  penned  in  our  lan- 
guage ;  and  been  peculiarly  charmed  with  the  historians,  ora- 
tors, and  poets  of  antiquity:  but  were  I  to  renew  my  studies,  I 


JAMES    HERVEY.  405 

would  take  my  leave  of  those  accomplished  trifles:  I  would 
resign  the  delight  of  modern  wits,  amusements,  and  eloquence, 
and  devote  my  attention  to  the  Scriptures  of  Truth.  I  would 
sit  with  much  greater  assiduity  at  my  divine  Master's  feet,  and 
desire  to  know  nothing  in  comparison  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him 
crucified." 

His  mode  of  preaching  was  peculiarly  simple  and  impressive, 
and  no  minister  ever  took  a  more  anxious  interest  in  the  spiritual 
welfare  of  his  parishioners,  at  whose  houses  he  was  a  frequent 
and  familiar  visitor.  His  generosity  and  bounty  scarcely  left 
him  a  sufficient  sum  for  his  own  subsistence ;  the  profits  arising 
from  the  sale  of  his  Meditations,  which  amounted  to  £700,  he 
devoted  entirely  to  charitable  purposes ;  and  the  little  left  by 
him  at  his  death,  he  directed  might  be  laid  out  in  the  purchase 
of  clothing  for  the  poor. 

In  addition  to  the  publications  already  mentioned,  he  was 
the  author  of  several  letters  and  sermons,  all  of  which  are  to  be 
found  in  the  genuine  edition  of  his  works,  in  six  volumes,  octavo. 
He  has  been  charged  with  carrying  his  Calvinistic  notions  to 
the  verge  of  Antinomianism,  Avith  respect  to  the  imputed  right- 
eousness of  Christ;  but  his  writings  on  this  subject  have  never 
been  considered  as  seriously  objectionable.  His  Meditations 
have  furnished  many  of  our  poets  with  beautiful  ideas ;  and, 
notwithstanding  their  somewhat  too  flowery  style,  will  probably 
always  retain  their  original  popularity. 


406 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


CHAELES  WESLEY. 


HARLES  WESLEY  was   prematurely  born 

on  the  eighteenth  of  December,  1708,  at 
Epworth,  in  Lincolnshire.  He  appeared  to 
be  dead  when  he  was  born,  neither  crying,  nor 
opening  his  eyes.  He  was  wrapped  in  soft 
wool  for  several  weeks,  until  the  time  when 
he  should  have  been  born,  according  to  the 
usual  course  of  nature,  and  then  he  both  opened 
his  eyes  and  cried.  In  common  with  all  his  bro- 
thers, he  received  the  rudiments  of  his  education 
at  home  from  his  pious  and  able  mother.  In  1718, 
he  was  sent  to  Westminster  school,  and  placed  under 
the  care  of  his  elder  brother,  Samuel,  who  gave  great 
attention  to  his  studies,  and  instilled  his  own  high 
church  principles  into  the  sprightly  and  active  student. 
When  he  had  been  some  years  at  school.  Garret  Wesley, 
an  Irish  gentleman  of  large  fortune,  wrote  to  his  father,  and 
asked  if  he  had  any  son  named  Charles ;  if  so,  he  would  make 
him  his  heir.  For  several  years  after  this,  money  was  regu- 
larly received  for  his  education  from  a  gentleman  in  London. 
One  year,  a  gentleman,  supposed  to  have  been  Garret  Wesley 
himself,  came  to  see  him,  talked  long  with  him,  and  tried  to 
induce  him  to  accompany  him  to  Ireland.  Charles  wrote  to  his 
father  for  advice.  His  father  answered  immediately,  leaving 
the  matter  to  his  own  choice.  He  chose  to  stay  in  England, 
and  declined  the  flattering  offer.  This  circumstance,  John 
Wesley  calls,  in  an  allusion  to  it  written  shortly  before  his 
death,  "a  fair  escape."  It  seems  to  have  been  the  decision  of 
a  question  on  which  hung  the  most  important  interest  of  Great 
Britain.  For  when  Garret  Wesley  was  thus  disappointed,  he 
urned  to  another  of  his  kinsmen,  Richard  Colley,  who  became 


CHARLES    YvESLEY.  40? 

Richard  Collej  Wesley,  heir  to  Garret's  wealth,  and  this  gave 
hira  a  position  in  the  world  which  he  was  able  to  improve,  until 
he  became  a  member  of  parliament,  and  then  a  peer  of  the 
realm,  under  the  title  of  Lord  Mornington.  He  was  the  grand- 
father of  the  Marquis  Wellesley,  and  of  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton. There  can  hardly  be  any  doubt  in  human  calculation,  that 
without  the  advantages  of  wealth  given  to  Richard  Colley,  by 
Charles  Wesley's  refusal  to  leave  England,  that  gentleman 
would  never  have  been  Lord  Mornington  ;  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton would  never  have  been  born,  and  the  imperial  sceptre  of 
Napoleon  might  have  still  swayed  the  destinies  of  Europe.  Such 
were  the  temporal  interests  depending  upon  the  will  of  an  im- 
petuous boy ;  how  many  now  happy  souls  would  never  have  been 
converted  by  his  leaving  Oxford,  and  the  path  he  afterwards 
had,  to  go  to  Ireland,  who  can  tell  ?  Truly,  it  is  in  the  trifles 
of  human  life,  that  the  pious  mind  can  most  clearly  discern  the 
workings  of  Divine  Providence. 

In  1721,  he  was  admitted  a  scholar  of  St.  Peter's,  at  West- 
minster, and  in  1726,  he  was  elected  to  Christ  Church,  in  Ox- 
ford, where"  his  brother  John  was  Fellow  of  Lincoln  College. 
He  pursued  his  studies  diligently,  says  his  brother  John,  and 
pursued  a  regular,  harmless  life ;  but  if  I  spoke  to  him  about 
religion,  he  would  answer,  What,  would  you  have  me  a  saint  all 
at  once  ?  and  would  hear  no  more.  John  was  then  nearly  three 
years  his  father's  curate,  and  when  he  came  back  to  Oxford,  in 
1729,  he  found  that  his  brother  was  not  only  changed  from  his 
seeming  thoughtlessness,  but  was  in  great  earnest  to  save  his 
soul,  and  acknowledged  and  despised  as  the  leader  of  a  class  of 
pious  young  men,  to  whom  was  derisively  affixed  the  name  of 
Methodists.  He  was  the  first  Methodist,  and  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  that  society,  which  has  its  members  in  every  part  of  the 
world,  and  the  establishment  of  which  has  been  of  so  much  im 
portance  to  the  happiness  of  thousands.  John  Wesley  soon  be 
came  the  head  of  the  little  society,  gave  it  a  fixity  of  character, 
and  extended  its  views  beyond  the  merely  mutual  improvement 
of  its  members  in  knowledge  and  virtue.  Soon  after,  Charles 
Wesley  began  to  take  pupils,  and  his  father  thus  concludes  a 
letter  to  him  on  the  occasion,  after  commending  his  determina- 
tion to  endeavour  to  form  their  minds  to  piety  as  well  as  learn- 
ing.    "You  are  now  fairly  launched,   Charles;  hold  up  your 


408  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

head,  and  swim  like  a  man;  and  when  you  cuff  the  wave  be- 
lie«ith  you.  say  to  it,  much  as  another  hero  did, 

Carolum  vehis,  et  Caroli  fortunam,* 

But  always  keep  your  eye  fixed  above  the  pole  star,  and  so  God 
Bend  you  a  good  fortune  through  the  troublesome  sea  of  life, 
which  is  the  hearty  prayer  of  your  loving  father." 

When  John  Wesley  determined  to  go  to  Georgia,  he  per- 
suaded Charles,  who  loved  him  with  his  whole  soul,  to  accom- 
pany him,  and  ho  engaged  himself  as  secretary  to  Mr.  Ogle- 
thorpe, and  as  secretary  for  Indian  affairs  ;  and  in  this  capacity 
he  made  the  voyage.  He  was  ordained  deacon  by  Dr.  Potter, 
Bishop  of  Oxford,  and  on  the  Sunday  following,  he  received 
priest's  orders  at  the  hands  of  Dr.  Gibson,  Bishop  of  London. 
He  had  exceedingly  dreaded  entering  into  holy  orders,  on  ac- 
count of  the  vast  responsibility  of  the  office,  but  in  this  he  was 
also  influenced  by  his  brother  John,  who  knew  better  than  any 
other,  his  worth  and  his  talents.  Being  detained  at  Cowes 
while  the  vessel  was  preparing  to  sail,  Charles  preached  several 
times,  great  crowds  attending  his  ministry.  Samuel  Wesley, 
who  was  very  much  opposed  to  his  going  to  Georgia,  made  use 
of  this  as  a  last  argument,  hoping  that  it  plainly  convinced 
Charles,  that  he  needed  not  to  go  to  America  to  convert  sinners. 
The  influence  of  John  was  paramount  to  every  thing  else,  how- 
ever, and  the  brothers  sailed  to  America  together. ,  Charles  was 
appointed  to  Frederica,  w\aiting  an  opportunity  of  preaching  to 
the  Indians,  and  there  his  correct  and  holy  life,  and  his  unspar- 
ing reproofs  of  the  great  vices  of  the  colonists,  made  him  many 
enemies.  They  not  only  hated  him,  but  formed  plans  for  ruin- 
ing him  in  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Oglethorpe,  and  forcing  him,  by 
continual  acts  of  violence,  to  leave  the  colony.  The  sufferings 
he  endured  in  consequence  of  their  machinations,  seem  at 
this  day  incredible.  Oglethorpe  for  a  time  sided  with  them, 
but  finally  saw  and  acknowledged  his  error,  and  did  what  he 
jould  to  make  amends  for  his  conduct.  He  became  very  much 
enfeebled  by  disease,  contracted  from  exposure  and  the  cruel 
neglect  he  had  borne,  and  this,  with  urgent  public  business, 
caused  his  return  to  England.  He  set  sail  in  a  poor  leaky  vessel, 
unseaworthy,  with  a  captain  who  had  made  but  few  of  the  neces- 

*  Thou  carries!  Charles,  and  Charles'  fortune. 


CHARLES   WESLEY.  409 

sary  provisions  for  the  passage.  He  drank  nothing  but  gin 
himself,  and  very  •naturally  forgot  to  take  a  sufficient  quantity 
of  water,  and  in  ten  days  after  leaving  Charleston,  the  ship's 
company  were  put  on  short  allowance,  while  a  dangerous  leak 
in  the  vessel  rendered  their  situation  in  the  greatest  degree 
alarming.  They  were  obliged  to  steer  for  Boston,  which  they 
contrived  to  reach  after  being  forty  days  at  sea.  The  hospital- 
ities of  the  good  people  of  New  England  made  him  forget  the 
sufferings  he  had  endured  in  the  South,  but  his  sickness  brought 
him  very  low.  When  he  again  set  sail  and  reached  England, 
he  was  received  with  the  greatest  joy  by  his  friends,  who  wel- 
comed him  as  one  from  the  dead.  A  report  had  been  spread 
that  the  ship  in  which  he  had  sailed  from  Charleston  had  been 
seen  to  sink  at  sea,  and  he  called  on  one  lady  while  she  was  in 
the  act  of  reading  an  account  of  his  death. 

In  February,  1738,  Peter  Bohler  arrived  in  England,  and 
John  Wesley,  about  the  same  time,  returned  from  Georgia.  This 
earnest-hearted  stranger  became  acquainted  w^ith  the  two  bro- 
thers, and  while  Charles  assisted  him  in  learning  English,  he 
pressed  upon  his  teacher,  and  all  who  were  willing  to  hear  him, 
the  necessity  of  conversion,  prayer  and  faith.  In  a  short  time 
John  Wesley  was  awakened  to  the  subject,  and  received  the  new- 
birth,  and  though  Charles  was  so  much  offended  at  the  new  doc- 
trines that  he  left  the  room  during  a  discussion  between  them 
concerning  conversion — whether  it  was  gradual  or  instantaneous 
— he  himself  soon  became  convinced  that  he  had  not  the  true 
faith  which  puts  the  believer  in  possession  of  the  benefits  and 
privileges  of  the  gospel.  When  he  knew  his  deficiency,  h^  was 
earnest  and  constant  in  his  efforts  to  supply  it,  and  his  prayer 
was  soon  heard.  When  he  was  satisfied  that  he  too  had  been 
born  again,  he  endeavoured  to  ground  as  many  friends  as 
he  could  in  his  own  belief — salvation  by  faith,  not  an  idle 
dead  faith,  but  a  faith  that  works  by  love,  and  is  incessantly 
productive  of  all  good  works  and  holiness.  During  John 
Wesley's  absence  from  England,  on  his  visit  to  the  Moravians, 
Charles  was  in  ill  health,  and  incapacitated  from  very  arduous 
la.bours.  There  was  a  number  of  condemned  felons  in  Newgate 
prison,  however,  to  whose  conversion  he  applied  himself  with 
the  utmost  zeal,  and,  he  believed,  not  without  success.  When 
the  day  for  their  execution  came,  Mr.  Wesley  and  two  of  his 
52  2M 


410  LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

friends  got  upon  the  cart  with  them.  They  were  all  cheerful^ 
full  of  comfort,  peace  and  triumph ;  firmly  persuaded  that 
Christ  had  died  for  them  ;  had  taken  away  their  sins  and  Availed 
to  receive  them  into  paradise.  Mr.  Wesley  says  he  never  saw 
such  incredible  indifterence  to  dying.  None  showed  any  natural 
terror  of  death ;  no  fear,  or  crying,  or  tears.  They  were 
turned  off  exactly  at  twelve  o'clock.  Not  one  struggled  for 
life.  Mr.  Wesley  spoke  a  few  suitable  words  to  the  crowd,  and 
returned,  full  of  peace,  and  confident  of  the  happiness  of  the 
departed  felons. 

In  the  first  part  of  his  ministry,  Charles  Wesley  was  mi*ch 
alone ;  his  brother  being  in  Germany  and  Mr.  Whitefield  in 
America.  But  when  the  plan  of  itinerant  preaching  was  adopt- 
ed by  them,  he  entered  heartily  into  it,  and  met  with  great 
success.  On  Kennington  common,  his  congregations  have  been 
computed  at  ten  thousand,  and  vast  crowds  in  Moorfields  listened 
to  him  with  seriousness,  and  thousands  were  brought  from  the 
deep  degradation  of  vice  and  misery  to  a  vital  concern  for  their 
eternal  state.  He  always  asked  for  the  pulpit  of  the  church 
in  a  place,  but  did  not  refrain  from  preaching  when  it  was  de- 
nied him.  The  multitudes  who  came  to  listen  to  him  could  not 
often  be  accommodated  in  any  building ;  and  sometimes,  when 
the  use  of  the  church  was  granted  him,  he  would  stand  in  the 
window,  and  preach  to  the  congregation,  Avithin  and  without. 

In  Wales  he  once  encountered  much  opposition  from  a  phy- 
sician who  appropriated  some  remarks  in  a  sermon  about  Phari- 
sees to  himself,  and  rose  and  left  the  church.  He  then  drank 
freely  of  wine,  united  himself  with  a  company  of  players,  whose 
business  Mr.  Wesley's  preaching  had  ruined,  and  came  back  to 
the  house  to  burn  it  down.  One  of  the  players  managed  to  get 
into  the  room  with  a  sword,  and  was  in  close  proximity  to  Mr. 
Wesley,  before  he  was  discovered.  He  was  secured  with  some 
trouble,  and  afterwards  begged  Mr.  Wesley's  pardon,  and  was 
released  at  his  desire.  Leaving  the  house,  Mr.  Wesley  walked 
with  Mr.  Wells  through  the  mob  of  his  enemies,  who  shrank 
from  before  his  pious  courage.  He  confined  his  labours  to 
England,  principally  in  the  neighbourhood  of  London  and  Bris- 
tol, and  to  Wales,  until  the  year  1747,  when,  in  September,  he 
went  to  Dublin.  He  had  endured  grievous  persecutions  in  Eng- 
land and  Wales,  far  greater,  perhaps,  than  were  ever  experienced 


CHARLES   WESLEY.  411 

bv  his  brother  or  Mr.  Whitefield.  But  in  Ireland  he  met  with 
a  very  different  treatment.  In  Cork,  whenever  he  appeared  in 
the  streets,  the  people  pursued  him  with  their  blessings.  The 
same  favourable  inclination  was  manifested  all  round  the  coun- 
try. "Wherever  we  go,"  says  Mr.  Wesley,  "they  receive  us 
as  angels  of  God.  Were  this  to  last,  I  would  escape  for  my 
life  to  America." 

In  October,  1748,  returning  to  England,  his  life  was  provi- 
dentially preserved.  A  gale  was  blowing,  and  he  stood  on  deck 
talking  to  the  captain,  when  the  sail  became  loosened,  and  the 
small  boat  on  deck  got  out  of  its  place.  The  captain  ordered 
his  hands  to  restore  things,  and  sent  Mr.  Wesley  into  the  cabin, 
out  of  the  way.  He  had  scarcely  got  there  before  there  was 
a  cry,  "  we  have  lost  the  mast."  A  passenger  ran  to  inquire 
into  the  disaster,  and  found  that  it  was  not  the  mast,  but  the 
poor  master  himself,  who  had  been  knocked  overboard.  It  is 
supposed  the  loose  boat  struck  him  as  it  was  thrown  about  by 
the  motion  of  the  vessel.  They  were  near  the  land,  and  the 
disaster  threw  the  crew  into  such  confusion  that  the  vessel 
would  have  been  stranded  had  not  a  passenger  ran  to  the  helm 
and  averted  the  danger.  This  circumstance  affected  Mr.  Wes- 
ley very  seriously.  He  knelt  down  and  prayed  long  and  fer- 
vently. 

In  April,  1749,  he  was  married  by  his  brother  at  Garth,  in 
Wales,  to  Miss  Sarah  Gwynne,  a  pious,  accomplished,  and  agree- 
able young  lady.  "It  was  a  solemn  day,"  says  John  Wesley, 
"  such  as  became  the  dignity  of  a  Christian  marriage." 

Five  children  were  the  fruit  of  this  marriage,  which  was  a 
really  Christian  union,  replete  with  happiness.  His  marriage 
neither  interrupted  his  labours  nor  interfered  with  his  useful- 
ness. He  was  in  London  at  the  time  of  the  famous  earthquake, 
in  February,  1750,  preaching  in  the  Foundery,  which  was  so 
violently  shaken  that  it  was  expected  to  fall.  This  calamity, 
with  the  predictions  of  its  recurrence,  made  by  the  designing, 
found  him  much  work.  He  laboured  zealously  to  convert  the 
consternation  which  brought  many  to  knock  at  the  door  of  the 
Foundery  for  admittance,  in  the  belief  that  they  were  safer  there 
than  elsewhere,  into  a  holy  fear  of  their  own  evil  courses.  It 
was  a  time  of  mercy  to  many.  Mr.  Whitefield  was  in  London 
about  the  same  time,  and  preached  with  great  effect  to  a  raulti- 


412  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 

tude  in  Hyde  Park,  who  had  fled  there  to  avoid  the  predicted 
overthrow  of  the  city. 

The  attempts  which  many  made  to  bring  about  a  separation 
of  the  Methodists  from  the  established  church  gave  great  dis- 
comfort to  Charles  Wesley.  He  continued  to  preach  till  with- 
in a  short  time  of  his  death,  but  his  last  tour,  as  an  itinerant 
preacher,  was  made  in  the  year  1756.  After  that  time,  he 
divided  his  time  chiefly  between  London  and  Bristol.  His 
conduct  in  thus  changing  his  method  of  labouring,  has  been  at- 
tributed to  various  causes,  and,  among  others,  to  a  diminution 
of  zeal.  This  was  not  the  fact.  He  was  determinedly  opposed 
to  the  attempt  to  make  the  Methodists  an  independent  body, 
and  this  made  the  leading  ministers,  who  wished  it,  inimical  to 
him  ;  and  to  these  were  added  nearly  all  the  itinerant  preajchers^ 
because  he  had  openly  avowed  his  opinion  that  many  were  ad- 
mitted into  the  connection  in  thai  capacity  who  were  not  quali- 
fied for  the  station.  Numerous  attempts  were  made  to  prejudice 
him  with  his  brother  John,  of  which  he  was  fully  aware,  and  he 
thought  it  better  to  retire  than  have  frequent  occasions  of  dif- 
ference, or  an  illiberal  opposition.  While  he  thus  sought  to 
put  an  end  to  the  espionage  which  continually  observed  his 
words  and  actions,  for  purposes  of  misconstruction  and  mis- 
representation, he  continued  firmly  attached  to  the  Methodists, 
and  laboured  continually  to  avert  the  evils  which  he  feared,  and 
to  promote  the  good  of  the  societies.  His  affection  for  the  church 
was  as  strong,  he  said,  as  ever ;  he  clearly  saw  his  calling,  which 
was  to  live  and  die  in  her  communion.  This  he  was  determined 
to  do,  and  this  he  did,  on  the  29th  of  March,  1788,,  in  the 
eightieth  year  of  his  age.  He  was  buried,  at  his  own  desire,  in 
Marylebone  churchyard.  The  pall  was  supported  by  eight 
ministers  of  the  church  of  England. 

His  disposition  was  warm  and  lively ;  his  friendships  gene- 
rous and  steady ;  his  conversation  pleasing,  instructive,  and 
cheerful ;  his  perceptions  of  character  quick  and  unerring ;  and 
his  religion  genuine,  unafl"ected,  and  simple  to  severity.  His 
preaching  was  exceedingly  powerful,  forcing  conviction  on  the 
hearers,  in  spite  of  the  most  determined  opposition.  The 
Methodist  connection  is  more  indebted  to  him  than  to  any  other, 
on  account  of  his  unwearied  labours,  and  great  usefulness  at  the 
first  formation  of  the  societies,  when  every  step  was  attended 


CHARLES   WESLEY.  413 

with  difficulty  and  danger,  and  especially  on  account  of  his  ex- 
cellent hymns,  still  the  ministers  of  instruction  and  comfort  to 
thousands.  "  The  sweet  singer  of  Methodism,"  has  inscribed 
upon  his  tombstone,  the  following  appropriate  lines,  which  he 
himself  wrote  on  the  death  of  one  of  his  friends: 

With  poverty  of  spirit  blest, 
Rest,  happy  saint,  in  Jesus  rest ; 
A  sinner  saved,  through  grace  forgiven, 
Redeem'd  from  earth  to  reign  in  heaven  I 
Thy  labours  of  unwearied  love. 
By  thee  forgot,  are  cro-wu'd  above ; 
Crown'd,  through  the  mercy  of  thy  Itordt 
With  a  free,  fuU,  immense  reward  1 


414 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


HUMPHKEY  PRIDEAUX. 


ORN  at  Padstow,  in  Cornwall,  in  1648,  re- 
ceived his  education  at  Westminster,  and 
Christ  Church,  Oxford,  where  his  publication 
of  the  inscription,  from  the  Arundel  Marbles, 
under  the  title  of  Marmora  Oxoniensia,  pro- 
cured him  the  patronage  of  Lord  Chancellor 
Pinch ;  who,  after  Prideaux  had  taken  orders, 
gave  him  a  living,  and  a  prebend  in  Norwich 
Cathedral.  He  subsequently  became  D.  D.,  and 
obtained,  among  other  preferments,  that  of  the 
deanery  of  Norwich,  in  1702,  being  the  highest  to 
R'hich  he  was  raised.  Physical  infirmity,  however, 
brought  on  by  an  unskilful  operation  for  the  stone, 
alone  prevented  him  from  being  promoted  to  a  bishop- 
ric ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  induced  him  to  resign  all 
his  livings,  and  to  devote  the  remainder  of  his  days  to 
literature.  He  died  on  the  1st  of  November,  1724,  leaving 
behind  him,  besides  othei-  theological  works,  his  celebrated  and 
oft  reprinted  one,  entitled  the  "  Old  and  New  Testament  con- 
nected in  the  Histoi-y  of  the  Jews  and  neighbouring  Nations." 
Prideaux  was  no  less  respected  for  his  virtue  than  his  learning; 
he  was  often  consulted  on  the  affairs  of  the  church ;  and  the 
work  last-mentioned  justifies  any  deference  that  might  have 
been  paid  to  the  opinion  of  its  author.  Dr.  Prideaux's  "  Con- 
nection of  the  History  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,"  pub- 
lished in  1715  and  1717,  in  folio,  has  been  one  of  the  most 
widely  circulated  books  in  the  English  language,  and  it  has  still 
u  peculiar  value  among  several  more  recent  works  of  a  similar 
design.  His  "Life  of  Mahomet"  has  also  obtained  a  wide 
circulation. 


EDWARD  YOUNG. 


415 


EDWARD  YOUNG. 


AS  born  at  the  rectory-house  of  his  father, 
a  clergyman,  at  Upham,  near  Winchester,  in 
June,  1681.  He  received  the  first  part  of  his 
education  at  the  school  at  Winchester,  where 
he  remained  until  his  nineteenth  year,  and  in 
1703,  he  was  entered  an  independent  member 
of  New  College,  Oxford.  He  subsequently  re- 
moved to  Corpus  College  ;  and,  in  1708,  he 
was  nominated  by  Archbishop  Tenison  to  a  fel- 
lowship of  All  Souls,  where  he  graduated  B.  G.  L. 
in  1714,  and,  in  1719,  D.  C.  L.  Both  as  a  poet 
and  a  scholar  he  had  already  distinguished  himself 
at  the  university;  but  the  morality  of  his  conduct 
during  the  early  part  of  his  residence  at  college,  more 
than  one  writer  denies.  His  zeal,  however,  in  the 
cause  of  religion,  appears,  upon  the  authority  of  Tindal, 
with  whom  he  used  to  spend  much  of  his  time,  to  have  been 
early  roused.  "The  other  boys,"  says  this  Deist,  or  Atheist, 
•'  I  can  always  answer,  because  I  always  know  whence  they 
have  their  arguments,  which  I  have  read  an  hundred  times ;  but 
that  fellow.  Young,  is  continually  pestering  me  with  something 
of  his  own." 

One  of  Young's  earliest  poetical  efforts  was  a  recommenda- 
tory copy  of  verses  prefixed  to  Addison's  Cato,  if  we  except  a 
part  of  his  poem  on  "The  Last  Day,"  which  appeared  in  "The 
Tatler,"  and  was  probably  finished  as  early  as  1710.  It  was 
published  in  1713,  with  a  fulsome  dedication  to  Queen  Anne, 
and  was  shortly  afterwards  followed  by  his  "Force  of  Religion, 
or  Vanquished  Love;"  founded  on  the  execution  of  Lady  Jane 
Grey,  and  her  husband,  Lord  Guildford.  On  tlie  accession  of 
King  George  the  First,  he  flattered  the  monarch  in  an  ode  upon 
the  queen's  death  ;  and,  in«1717,  he  accompanied  to  Ireland  the 


410  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

profligate  Duke  of  Wharton,  whose  father  had  been  a  friend 
and  patron  to  Young.  In  1719,  his  tragedy  of  Busiris  was 
acted  at  Drury  Lane,  and  was  followed,  in  1721,  b}^  "The  Re- 
venge," with  a  dedication  to  Wharton,  which  he  afterwards,  says 
Herbert  Croft,  his  biographer  in  Johnson's  Lives  of  the  Poets, 
took  all  the  pains  in  his  power  to  conceal  from  the  world. 
Wharton  appears,  however,  to  have  been  a  substantial  benefac- 
tor of  our  author ;  for  he  not  only  did  his  utmost  to  advance 
him  in  the  world  by  recommendation,  but  furnished  him  with 
the  means  of  pursuing  even  a  more  ambitious  course  than 
Young  aspired  to.  At  the  duke's  request  and  expense  he  stood 
a  contested  election  for  Cirencester  ;  but  being  unsuccessful,  his 
patron  granted  him  an  annuity,  and  he  henceforth  determined 
on  studying  for  the  church. 

He  continued,  however,  his  devotion  to  the  muses ;  and,  in 
1728,  published  the  last  of  six  satires,  for  which,  under  the  title 
of  "  The  Universal  Passion,"  Wharton  gave  him  .£3000.  About 
the  same  time  he  entered  into  holy  orders,  and  was  appointed 
chaplain  to  George  the  Second;  and  in  1730,  he  was  presented 
by  his  college  to  the  rectory  of  Welwyn,  in  Hertfordshire.  In 
1732,  he  married  Lady  Elizabeth  Lee,  widow  of  Colonel  Lee, 
and  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Lichfield ;  she  died  in  1740,  leav- 
ing him  one  son  and  a  step-daughter,  whose  death,  in  conjunc- 
tion  with  that  of  her  husband.  Lord  Temple,  he  laments  in  his 
Night  Thoughts,  under  the  names  of  Philander  and  Narcissa. 
It  was  in  consequence  of  the  melancholy  reflections  occasioned  by 
these  family  losses,  that  Young  composed  his  "Night  Thoughts ;" 
respecting  which  we  will  only,  in  this  place,  remark,  that  the 
character  of  Lorenzo  does  not  appear  to  have  had  allusion  to 
his  son.  This  is  most  satisfactorily  proved,  by  the  authority 
just  cited,  notwithstanding  the  assertions  of  most  of  the  biogra- 
phers of  our  author  to  the  contrary.  The  "Night  Thoughts" 
occupied  him  from  1741  to  1746,  and  in  the  interval  he  produced 
other  pieces,  both  in  poetry  and  prose.  In  1753,  his  tragedy 
of  "The  Brothers,"  written  in  1728,  appeared  upon  the  stage  for 
the  benefit  of  the  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel; 
and  not  realizing  the  profits  anticipated,  he  made  up  the  sum 
he  intended,  which  was  £1000,  from  his  own  pocket.  In  1754, 
he  completed  his  "  Centaur  not  Fabulous,  in  six  Letters  to  a 
Friend  on  the  Life  in  Vogue,"  a  publication  in  prose  ;  as  was 


EDWARD   YOUNG.  417 

also  his  "  Conjectures  on  Original  Composition,"  which  appeared 
in  1759.  In  1761,  he  was  appointed  clerk  of  the  closet  to  the 
princess  dowager,  the  only  preferment  he  ever  received  after 
Ids  taking  orders;  though,  it  seems,  he  was  allowed  by  George 
the  Second  a  pension  of  .£200  a  year.  A  poem,  entitled  Re- 
signation, was  the  last  of  his  works,  of  the  chief  of  which  he 
published  an  edition  in  four  octavo  volumes,  a  short  time  previ- 
ous to  his  death,  which  took  place  on  the  12th  of  April,  1765. 
He  left,  with  the  exception  of  £1000  to  his  housekeeper,  and  a 
smaller  legacy,  the  whole  of  his  fortune  to  his  only  son,  Frede- 
rick ;  and,  in  his  will,  ordered  all  his  manuscripts  to  be  burnt. 
Young  lived  and  died  a  disappointed  man  ;  for,  notwithstand- 
ing his  elevated  sentiments  and  professed  love  of  retirement,  he 
had  not  given  up  hopes  of  advancement  in  the  church  until  a 
very  short  period  before  his  death.  As  a  Christian  and  divine, 
however,  his  conduct  was  exemplary,  if  we  except  his  harsh 
treatment  of  his  son,  whom,  in  consequence  of  his  expulsion 
from  college  for  misconduct,  he  refused  ever  afterwards  to  see. 
He  was  pleasant  in  conversation  and  extremely  polite,  and  pos- 
sessed sensibilities  highly  creditable  to  him,  if  the  following 
anecdote  may  be  relied  on  : — While  preaching  in  his  turn,  one 
Sunday,  at  St.  James's,  he  found  his  efforts  to  gain  the  atten- 
tion of  the  congregation  so  ineffectual,  that  he  leaned  back  in 
the  pulpit  and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears.  The  turn  of  his 
mind  was  naturally  solemn  :  he  spent  many  hours  in  a  day 
walking  among  the  tombs  in  his  own  churchyard ;  and  whilst 
engaged  in  writing  one  of  his  tragedies,  the  Duke  of  Wharton 
sent  him  a  human  skull  with  a  candle  fixed  in  it,  as  the  most 
congenial  ami  appropriate  present  he  could  make  him.  Not- 
withstanding, however,  a  certain  gloominess  of  temper,  he  was 
fond  of  innocent  sports  and  amusements,  and  instituted  an 
assembly  and  a  bowling-green  in  his  parish.  Among  other  in- 
stances of  his  wit  are  the  following : — Voltaire  happening  to 
ridicule  Milton's  allegorical  personages  of  Sin  and  Death,  Young 
thus  addressed  him: — 

Thou  art  so  witty,  pi'ofligate  and  thin, 

Thou  seem'st  a  Milton,  with  his  Death  and  Sin. 

As  an  author.  Young's  fame  rests  chiefly  upon  his  tragedy  of 
"The Revenge,"  and  his  "Night Thoughts,"  which,  Spence  says, 
were  composed  by  the  author  either  at  night  or  when  he  was  on 
53 


418  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

horseback.  His  Satires,  however,  must  not  be  forgotten  :  their 
author,  says  Johnson,  has  the  gayetj  of  Horace  without  his 
laxity  of  numbers,  and  the  morality  of  Juvenal  with  greater 
variation  of  images.  Swift  observed  of  them,  that  had  they 
been  more  merry  or  severe,  they  would  have  been  more  gene- 
rally pleasing  ;  because  mankind  are  more  apt  to  be  pleased  with 
ill-nature  and  mirth,  than  with  solid  sense  and  instruction.  In 
his  «' Night  Thoughts,"  Young  exhibits  entire  originality  of  style, 
elevation  of  sentiment,  grandeur  of  diction,  and  beauty  of  ima- 
gery, accompanied  with  an  extensive  knowledge  of  men  and 
things,  and  a  profound  acquaintance  with  the  feelings  of  the 
human  heart.  A  gloominess  and  severity  of  thought,  however, 
and  a  style  occasionally  tumid  and  bombastic,  detract  from  the 
pleasure  they  otherwise  afford,  and  are  apt  to  terrify  rather  than 
persuade  the  mind  of  the  reader  into  a  belief  of  those  divine 
truths  which,  in  this  sublime  production,  are  a")  admirably 
argued. 


ISAAC  WATTS. 


419 


ISAAC  WATTS. 


SAAC  WATTS  was  born  on  the  17th  of  July, 
1674,  at  Southampton ;  where  his  father,  who 
had  previously  been  imprisoned  for  non-con- 
formity,  at  the  latter  part   of  his  life  kept 
a  boarding-school.     Isaac  was  the  eldest  of 
nine  children.     From  his   earliest  years,  he 
displayed  great  avidity  for  learning,  and  before 
he  could  speak  plain,  whenever  any  money  was 
given  to  him,  he  would  carry  it  to  his  mother  and 
say,  as  well  as  he  could,  "A  book  !  a  book  !     Buy 
a  book  !"     It  is  reported  that  he  almost  "lisped  in 
numbers."      On    one   occasion,   his   mother  having 
chastised  him  for  addressing  her  in  rhyme,  he  uncon- 
sciously repeated  his  offence  in  imploring  her  forgive- 
ness.    From   this   time,   she   encouraged  his   natural 
predilection  to  verse-making,  and  gave  him  a  small  gra- 
tuity  whenever   his    lines    excited    her   approbation.      Having 
presented  him  with  a  farthing,  for  one  of  his  childish  efforts,  he 
soon  afterwards  brought  her,  it  is  said,  the  following  couplet : 

I  write  not  for  a  farthing ;  but  to  try- 
How  I  your  farthing  poets  can  outvie. 

He  studied  Latin  under  his  father,  and  Greek  and  Hebrew 
at  the  free-school  of  his  native  town.  Some  liberal  persons 
were  so  pleased  with  his  alacrity  in  learning,  as  to  propose  rais- 
ing a  fund  for  his  maintenance  at  the  university ;  to  which, 
however,  having  resolved  not  to  abandon  the  dissenters,  he  de- 
clined proceeding ;  and  completed  his  education  at  an  academy 
in  London,  kept  by  a  non-conformist  divine,  named  Howe.  One 
of  his  schoolfellows  was  Hughes,  afterwards  a  dramatist  of  some 
celebrity,  whom  he  endeavoured,  but  without  effect,  to  wean 
from  his  attachment  to  the  stage. 

In  1B93,  he  became  a  communicant  of  Rowe's  congregation, 


420  LIVES    OF  EMINENT   CHRIbllANS. 

and  soon  distinguished  himself  by  his  devotional  ardour.  He 
continued  to  study  with  great  zeal;  and,  about  this  period,  filled 
a  large  volume  with  Latin  dissertations,  which,  according  to 
Johnson,  displayed  much  philosophical  and  theological  know- 
ledge. He  amused  himself,  occasionally,  by  poetical  composi- 
tion, in  Latin  and  English.  A  copy  of  verses,  which  he  ad- 
dressed to  his  brother,  are  reputed  to  be  remarkably  elegant ; 
and  Johnson  says  that  his  diction,  although  not  always  pure, 
was  copious  and  splendid ;  but  "  some  of  his  odes,"  as  the  same 
critic  remarks,  "are  deformed  by  the  Pindaric  folly  then  pre- 
vailing ;  and  are  written  with  such  neglect  of  all  metrical  rules, 
as  is  without  example  among  the  ancients."  In  order  to  impress 
the  contents  of  such  books  as  he  admired  upon  his  memory,  he 
is  said  to  have  abridged  them.  He  was  likewise  in  the  habit 
of  amplifying  the  system  of  one  author,  by  supplements  from 
another ;  also,  to  write  an  account,  on  the  margin,  or  blank 
leaves,  which  he  introduced  for  the  purpose,  of  the  distinguish- 
ing characteristics  of  every  important  book  he  perused ;  object- 
ing to  what  he  deemed  questionable,  and  illustrating  or  confirm- 
ing what  in  his  opinion  was  correct ;  a  practice  which  he 
subsequently  recommended  all  students  to  adopt. 

At  the  age  of  twenty,  he  returned  to  Southampton,  and  passed 
the  following  two  years  in  study  and  devotional  retirement. 
He  then  became  tutor  to  the  son  of  Sir  John  Hartopp ;  and,  on 
his  birthday,  in  1698,  preached  his  first  sermon  to  Dr.  Chaun- 
cey's  congregation,  in  Mark  Lane,  to  whom  he  had  been  chosen 
assistant.  On  the  death  of  his  principal,  he  was  ofi'ered,  and 
accepted,  the  succession ;  but  was  incapacitated  for  a  long  pe- 
riod from  performing  his  pastoral  duties,  by  a  severe  fit  of  ill- 
ness, from  which  he  was  slowly  recovering,  when  he  received  an 
invitation  to  take  up  his  abode  at  the  residence  of  Sir  Thomas 
Abney,  a  London  alderman ;  in  whose  family  he  continued 
during  the  remainder  of  his  life,  on  such  a  footing,  as  Johnson 
remarks,  that  all  notions  of  patronage  and  dependence  wero 
overpowered  by  the  perception  of  reciprocal  benefits. 

The  greater  part  of  his  time  was  now  occupied  in  composition^ 
but  he  continued  to  preach  until  he  was  nearly  seventy  years 
of  age ;  and,  in  spite  of  many  natural  disadvantages,  acquired 
considerable  reputation  as  a  pulpit  orator.  The  University  of 
Abercreen  conferred  upon  the  degree  of  D.  D.,  on  account  of 


ISAAC   WATTS.  421 

the  excellency  of  some  of  his  works ;  among  which,  those  on 
"Logic,  and  the  Improvement  of  the  Mind,"  deserve  especial 
praise.  Although,  in  his  well-known  Psalms  and  Hymns,  he  is 
said  to  have  "only  done  best  what  nobody  has  done  well,"  yet 
their  popularity  is  so  great,  that,  for  many  years  past,  it  is  com- 
puted that  no  less  than  fifty  thousand  copies  of  them  are  printed 
annually  in  Great  Britain  and  America. 

In  addition  to  the  foregoing  productions,  he  published  several 
sermons  and  controversial  tracts ;  "  Lyric  Poems ;"  "  Philosophical 
Essays;"  "An  Elementary  Treatise  on  Astronomy  and  Geogra- 
phy ;''  "A  Discourse  on  Education;"  and  "A  Brief  Scheme  of 
Ontology."  The  profits  of  his  works,  as  well  as  two-thirds  of 
his  slender  emoluments  as  a  pastor,  were  devoted  to  benevolent 
purposes ;  and  so  exemplary  was  his  character,  in  every  respect, 
that  he  appears  to  have  been  beloved  and  admired  by  nearly 
all  the  virtuous  and  learned  among  his  contemporaries.  Shortly 
before  his  death,  which  took  place  on  the  •25th  of  November, 
1748,  he  observes  to  a  friend:  "I  remember  an  aged  minister 
Qsed  to  say,  '  that  the  most  learned  and  knowing  Christians, 
when  they  come  to  die,  have  only  the  same  plain  promises  of 
the  gospel  for  their  support  as  the  common  and  unlearned.' 
ind  so,"  added  he,  "  I  find  it.  The  plain  promises  of  the  gos- 
pel are  my  support ;  and  I  bless  God  that  they  are  plain  pro- 
mises, and  do  not  require  much  labour  and  pains  to  understand 
them ;  for  I  can  do  nothing  now,  but  look  into  my  Bible  for 
some  promise  to  support  me,  and  live  upon  that." 

It  has  lately  been  asserted,  and  it  appears  by  a  letter  in 
his  own  handwriting,  that,  towards  the  close  of  his  life, 
the  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  as  generally  understood, 
had  ceased  to  be  a  portion  of  his  creed ;  and  that,  a  short 
time  before  his  death,  he  revised  his  Psalms  and  Hymns,  so 
as  to  render  them  wholly  unexceptionable  to  every  Christian 
professor.  He  is  said  to  have  been  one  of  the  first  of  those  who 
taught  the  dissenting  preachers  to  court  the  attention  of  their 
hearers  by  the  beauties  of  language.  "In  the  pulpit,"  says 
Dr.  Johnson,  "  though  his  low  stature,  which  very  little  ex- 
ceeded five  feet,  graced  him  with  no  advantages  of  appearance, 
yet  the  gravity  and  propriety  of  his  utterance  made  his  dis- 
courses very  efficacious.  Such  was  his  flow  of  thoughts,  and 
such  his  promptitude  of  language,  that,  in  the  latter  part  of  his 

2  N 


422  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

life,  he  did  not  precompose  his  cursory  sermons,  but,  having 
adjusted  the  heads  and  sketched  out  some  particulars,  trusted 
for  success  to  his  extemporary  powers." 

"Few  men,"  says  the  same  writer,  speaking  of  Dr.  Watts, 
<'  have  left  such  purity  of  charac-ter,  or  such  monuments  of 
laborious  piety.  lie  has  provided  instruction  for  all  ages,-^ 
from  those  who  are  lisping  their  first  lessons,  to  the  enlightened 
readers  of  Malebranche  and  Locke ;  he  has  left  neither  corpo- 
real nor  spiritual  nature  unexamined  ;  he  has  taught  the  art  of 
reasoning,  and  the  science  of  the  stars.  His  character,  there- 
fore, must  be  formed  from  the  multiplicity  and  diversity  of  his 
attainments,  rather  than  from  any  single  performance;  for 
though  it  would  not  be  safe  to  claim  for  him  the  highest  rank 
in  any  single  denomination  of  literary  dignity ;  yet,  perhaps, 
there  was  nothing  in  which  he  would  not  have  excelled,  if  he 
had  not  divided  his  powers  to  different  pursuits." 

It  is  related  of  him,  that  he  addressed  the  following  im- 
promptu to  a  stranger,  by  whom,  on  being  pointed  out  by  a 
companion  as  <' the  great  Dr.  Watts,"  he  had  been  designated 
in  a  whisper  as  "  a  very  little  fellow :" — 

"Were  I  so  tall,  to  reach  the  pole, 
Or  grasp  the  ocean  with  a  span, 
I  must  be  measured  by  my  soul ; 
The  mind's  the  standard  of  the  man." 


CHARLES   CHAUNCY. 


423 


CHARLES  CHAUNCY. 


^^- 
i, 

f. 


RESIDENT  of  Harvard  College,  who  is 
styled  in  the  Magnalia,  Cadmus  AmerieanuSy 
vras  born  in  Hertfordshire,  educated  in  the 
school  at  AVestminster,  and  at  the  university 
of  Cambridge.  He  there  took  the  degree  of 
B.  D.  Beingintimately  acquainted  with  Arch- 
S  bishop  Usher,  one  of  the  finest  scholars  in 
tl  -^  ,  ;^  ^  V"  Europe,  he  had  more  than  common  advantages 
^V'^i^r  ^^  expand  his  mind,  and  make  improvements  in 
'iterature.  A  more  learned  man  than  Mr.  Chauncy 
;^^K.>^^  -was  not  to  be  found  among  the  fathers  of  New 
\^\^^  EnL^land.  He  had  been  chosen  Hebrew  professor 
cit  Cambridge,  by  the  heads  of  both  houses,  and  ex- 
changed this  branch  of  instruction  to  oblige  Dr.  WiU 
lianis,  vice-chancellor  of  the  university.  He  was  well 
skilled  in  many  oriental  languages,  but  especially  the 
Hebrew,  which  he  knew  by  very  close  study,  and  by  conversing 
with  a  Jew,  who  resided  at  the  same  house. 

He  was  also  an  accurate  Creek  scholar,  and  was  made  pro- 
fessor of  this  language  when  he  left  the  other  professorship. 
In  Leigh's  "Critica  Sacra,"  there  is  a  Latin  address  to  the  author 
by  a  friend,  C.  C,  who  is  called  FzV  doctissimus,  &c.  It  is  a 
commendation  of  the  work  in  a  handsome  style.  This  uncom- 
mon scholar  became  a  preacher,  and  was  settled  at  Ware.  He 
displeased  Archbishop  Laud,  by  opposing  the  Book  of  Sports, 
and  reflecting  upon  the  discipline  of  the  church.  In  Rushforth's 
Collections,  there  is  this  passage:  "Mr.  Chauncy,  using  some 
expressions  in  his  sermons  which  were  construed  to  his  disad- 
vantage, ex.  g.  That  idolatry  was  admitted  into  the  church ; 
that  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  would  be  suppressed  ;  that  there 
is  as  much  atheism,  popery,  Arminianism  and  heresy  crept  in, 
&c."     This  being  viewed  as  a  design  to  raise  a  fear  among  the 


424  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

people,  that  some  alteration  of  religion  would  ensue,  he  was 
questioned  in  the  High  Commission  ;  and,  by  order  of  that  court, 
the  cause  was  referred  to  the  Bishop  of  London,  being  his  ordi- 
nary, who  ordered  him  to  make  a  suhmissioyi  in  Latin. 

This  worthy  man  came  over  to  New  England,  in  1638,  arriv- 
ing at  Plymouth,  Jan.  1st. 

He  was  soon  after  ordained  at  Scituate.  One  thing  is  worth 
mentioning,  to  show  the  spirit  of  the  man,  and  the  quaint  manner 
of  expression  tlien  in  use.  His  text  was,  Prov.  ix.  3;  Wisdom 
hath  sent  forth  her  maidens,  and  alluding  to  his  compliance  . 
with  the  High  Commission  court,  he  said  with  tears,  -'Alas! 
Christians,  I  am  no  maiden,  my  soul  has  been  defiled  with  false 
worship  ;  how  wondrous  is  the  free  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  that  I  should  stilt  be  employed  among  the  maideiis  of 
wisdom  !''  When  a  stop  was  put  to  the  Laudean  persecution, 
he  was  invited  back  by  his  former  people  at  Ware  ;  and  it  was 
his  intention  to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  life  in  his  native 
country.  At  this  time  the  chair  of  the  president  was  vacant  at 
Harvard  College.  He  was  requested  to  accept  it ;  and  for  a 
number  of  years  he  performed  the  duties  of  that  office  with 
honour  to  himself,  and  to  the  reputation  of  that  seminary  of 
learninof.  "  How  learnedly  he  conveyed  all  the  liberal  arts  to 
those  that  sat  under  his  feet,  how  constantly  he  expounded  the 
Scriptures  to  them  in  the  college  hall,  how  wittily  he  moderated 
their  disputations  and  other  exercises,  ]lo^\  fluently  he  expressed 
himself  unto  them,  with  Latin  of  a  Terentian  phrase,  in  all  his 
discourses,  and  how  carefully  he  inspected  their  manners,  will 
never  be  forgotten  by  many  of  our  most  worthy  men,  who  were 
made  such  by  their  education  under  him."  When  he  made  his 
oration  on  his  inauguration,  he  concluded  it  thus,  "Doctiorem, 
certe  prsesidem,  et  huic  oneri  ac  stationi  multis  modis  aptiorem, 
vobis  facile  licet  invenire ;  sed  amantiorem,  et  vestri  boni  studi- 
osiorem,  non  invenietis." 

He  was  very  industrious,  and  usually  employed  his  morning 
hours  in  study  or  devotion.  He  constantly  rose  at  four  o'clock, 
winter  and  summer.  In  the  morning  he  expounded  a  chapter, 
in  the  Old  Testament,  to  the  students  assembled  in  the  chapel ; 
and  in  the  evening  expounded  a  passage  in  the  New  Testament. 
Every  Sunday  he  preached  a  sermon,  instead  of  the  morning 
exposition.     Yet  with  all  his  zeal,  attention  to  his  business  and 


CHARLES   CHAUNCY.  425 

to  his  private  studies,  with  his  amazing  application  to  every 
thing  that  was  before  him,  he  lived  to  be  famous,  and  preached 
to  much  acceptance,  at  an  age  to  which  few  reach,  and  they 
complain,  "their  strength  is  labour  and  sorrow."  When  hi3 
friends  advised  him  to  remit  his  public  labours,  he  answered, 
^' Oportet  imperato  mori  stantem." 

At  length,  on  the  commencement  of  1771,  he  made  a  solemn 
address,  a  kind  of  valedictory  oration ;  and  having  lived  to 
some  good  purpose,  he  prepared  to  die  in  peace,  like  a  good  ser- 
vant who  expected  his  reward.  He  died,  the  end  of  this  year, 
aged  82,  having  been  about  sixteen  years  pastor  of  the  church 
in  Scituate,  and  seventeen  years  president  of  Harvard  College. 

He  was  a  man  very  hasty  in  his  temper :  of  this  he  was  sen- 
sible, and  took  great  pains  to  govern  it. 

President  Oakes,  who  was  minister  of  the  church  in  Cambridge, 
and  succeeded  him  as  head  of  the  same  literary  society,  preached 
his  funeral  sermon,  and  makes  some  apology  for  the  quickness 
of  his  temper, — -^^the  mention  thereof  was  to  be  wrapped  up  in 
Elijah's  mantle." 

President  Chauncy  left  six  sons,  all  of  whom  were  educated 
at  Harvard  College.  They  were  all  preachers.  Some  of  them 
very  learned  divines.  Dr.  Mather  says,  they  were  all  eminent 
physicians,  as  their  father  was  before  them.  In  a  new  country, 
where  there  are  no  physicians,  a  minister,  who  is  a  scientific  man, 
may  render  himself  eminently  useful  if  able  to  practise  physic ; 
but  we  are  not  of  the  opinion  of  this  gentleman  that  there  ought 
to  be  no  distinction  between  physic  and  divinity.  One  man  had 
better  not  be  engaged  in  more  than  his  own  profession.  He  may 
be  learned  in  one  thing,  and  superficial  in  another — a  learned 
theologian  and  a  quack  doctor,  as  we  have  seen  in  modern 
times.  ^ 


*  ^ia  -hiA  and  the  two  following  notices  we  are  indebted  to  Eliot 


54  2jii! 


126 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISlxANS. 


CHARLES   CHAUNCY. 


life 


ASTOR  of  the  first  church  in  Boston,  was  a 
great-grandson  of  President  Chauncy,  and" 
had  much  of  the  genius  and  spirit  of  his  an- 
cestor.    He  was  born,  January  1,  1705.     His 
father,  the  youngest  son  of  the  Rev.  Isaac 
Chauncy,  Berry  street,  settled  in  Boston,  as 
a  merchant.     Charles  was  only  seven  years  old 
when  his  father  died ;  but  had  friends,  who  were 
-^    disposed  to  give  him  every  advantage  of  education. 
Sp      At  twelve  years  old  he  was  sent  to  Harvard  Col- 
~    lege ;  was  graduated,  1721,  and  considered  as  one  of 
'  ^^  the  best  scholars  who  had  ever  received  the  honours 
of  that  seminary. 
It  afforded  great  pleasure  to  wise  and  good  men  of 
those  times,  to  see  a  descendant  gf  that  president  who 
had   done  so  much  honour  to  New  England  come  into 
with    such  high  recommendations ;  and  their  hopes  were 

As  soon  as 


highly  gratified  when  he  made  divinity  his  study. 
Mr.  Wadsworth  was  removed  from  the  first  church,  to  preside  at 
Cambridge,  the  eyes  of  the  people  were  fixed  upon  this  young 
man,  and  he  was  associated  with  Mr.  Foxcroft  in  the  work  of 
the  ministry.  He  was  ordained,  1727.  Mr.  Foxcroft  and  he 
were  colleague  pastors  for  about  forty  years.  After  the  death 
of  his  colleague,  he  performed  the  whole  parochial  duty  nearly 
ten  years.  In  June,  1778,  the  Rev.  Mr.  John  Clark  was  settled 
with  him,  whom  he  treated  as  a  son,  and  who  was  always  sensi- 
ble of  liis  paternal  regards. 

i>] .  Chauncy  was  one  of  the  greatest  divines  of  New  England; 
no  one  except  President  Edwards,  and  the  late  Dr.  Mayhew, 
has  been  so  much  known  among  the  literati  of  Europe,  or 
printed  more  books  on  tlieological  subjects.  He  took  great 
delight  in  studying  the  Scriptures.     Feeling  the  sacred  obliga- 


CHARLES   CHAUNCY.  427 

tions  of  morality,  lie  impressed  them  upon  the  minds  of  others 
in  the  most  rational  and  evangelical  manner.  When  he  preached 
upon  the  faith  of  the  gospel,  he  reasoned  of  righteousness,  tem- 
perance and  a  judgment  to  come.  It  was  said  that  he  wanted 
the  graces  of  delivery,  and  taste  in  composition.  But  it  was 
his  object  to  exhibit  the  most  sublime  truths  in  simplicity  of 
speech,  and  he  never,  therefore,  studied  to  have  his  periods 
polished,  or  his  style  adorned  with  rhetorical  figures.  His 
favourite  authors  were,  Tillotson  of  the  Episcopal  church,  and 
Baxter  among  the  Puritans.  For  he  preferred  the  rich  vein  of 
sentiment  in  the  sermons  of  the  English  divines,  to  that  tinsel 
of  French  declamation  so  fashionable  in  our  modern  way  of 
preaching.  Upon  some  occasions,  however.  Dr.  Chauncy  could 
X'aise  his  feeble  voice,  and  manifest  a  vigour  and  animation 
which  would  arrest  the  attention  of  the  most  careless  hearer, 
and  have  a  deeper  effect  than  the  oratory  which  is  thought  by 
many  to  be  irresistibly  persuasive  ;  at  all  times,  he  was  argu- 
mentative and  perspicuous,  and  made  an  admirable  practical 
use  of  the  sentiments  he  delivered. 

But  it  is  as  an  author  we  are  chiefly  to  view  Dr.  Chauncy  in 
this  biographical  sketch.  His  clear  head,  his  quick  conception, 
and  comprehensive  view  of  every  subject  enabled  him  to  write 
with  ease  and  propriety.  However  quick,  and  sudden,  and  un- 
guarded in  his  expressions  when  discussing  things  in  conversa- 
tion, he  reasoned  coolly  in  all  his  controversial  writings.  His 
ideas  were  so  well  arranged,  and  he  had  such  a  command  of 
them,  that  he  managed  every  subject  with  equal  candour,  liber- 
ality, fairness,  and  skill.  In  the  episcopal  controversy  he 
obtained  great  celebrity.  He  first  began  this  in  a  "  sermon 
upon  the  validity  of  presbyterian  ordination,"  preached  at  the 
Dudleian  lecture,  at  Cambridge,  1762.  In  1767.  he  wrote  his 
remarks  upon  a  sermon  of  the  Bishop  of  Llandaff.  In  1771  he 
printed  a  complete  view  of  episcopacy  in  "the  two  first  centuries." 
Besides  these,  he  had  a  particular  controversy  upon  the  subject 
of  the  American  episcopate.  He  wrote  '« An  Appeal  to  the  Public 
answered  in  behalf  of  Non-episcopal  Churches,"  when  Dr.  Chand- 
ler of  Elizabethtown,  offered  his  ''Appeal  to  the  Public,"  in 
favour  of  episcopal  churches.  To  this  Dr.  Chandler  wrote  an 
answer,  styled,  "  The  Appeal  defended,"  kc.     Dr.  Chauncy  made 


428  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

a  reply  to  ^'  The  Appeal  defended,"  and  to  this  Dr.  Chandler  also 
replied  in  another  large  pamphlet. 

In  the  Whitefieldian  controversy,  Dr.  Chauncy  discovered 
more  zeal  than  in  his  other  works.  In  1742,  and  1743,  he 
published  a  <' sermon  on  the  various  gifts  of  ministers;"  one 
upon  "enthusiasm,"  and  another  on  the  "outpourings  of  the 
Holy  Ghost;"  he  also  printed  an  "account  of  the  French  pro- 
phets," and  "Seasonable  Thoughts  upon  the  State  of  Keligion." 
At  the  time  of  the  great  revival  of  religion,  there  were  certain 
things  of  a  dangerous  tendency  mingled  with  it,  which  the  Dr. 
saw  fit  to  correct.  It  makes  an  octavo  volume  in  five  parts,  and 
by  the  list  of  subscribers,  we  find  he  was  encouraged  by  many 
worthy  ministers  who  differed  from  him  in  their  doctrinal  senti- 
ments. His  other  large  works  are,  "  Twelve  Sermons  on  Season- 
able and  Important  Subjects,"  chiefly  on  justification,  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  opinion  of  Robert  Sandiman,  1765 ;  the  "  Mystery 
hid  from  Ages,  or  the  Salvation  of  all  Men  ;"  and  "  Dissertations 
upon  the  Benevolence  of  the  Deity;"  these  were  printed  in  1784, 
and  the  next  year  he  printed  a  volume  "  On  the  Fall  of  Man  and 
its  Consequences." 

In  1742,  he  received  his  diploma  from  the  university  of  Edin- 
burgh, the  first  from  that  seminary  to  an  American  divine. 
He  was  also  one  of  the  London  board  of  commissioners  for  pro- 
pagating the  gospel  among  the  Indians ;  and  a  corresponding 
member  of  the  board  in  Scotland.  His  health,  cheerfulness, 
activity  and  the  powers  of  his  mind  continued  to  old  age. 
He  died  February-  10,  1787.  Mr.  Clarke  preached  his  funeral 
sermon. 


EZRA  STILES. 


120 


EZRA   STILES. 


ZRA  Stiles,  President  of  Yale  College,  was 
the  son  of  the  Rev.  Isaac  Stiles  of  North 
Haven,  Connecticut.  He  entered  college  in 
1742,  and  was  distinguished  among  the  stu- 
dents for  his  bright  genius,  his  intellectual 
accomplishments,  his  moral  virtues,  and  the 
suavity  of  his  manners.  When  he  received  the 
honours  of  the  seminary  in  New  Haven,  in  1746, 
he  was  esteemed  one  of  the  greatest  scholars  it 
had  ever  produced.  He  first  commenced  his  course 
of  life  with  the  study  and  practice  of  the  law.  He 
afterwards  thought  it  his  duty  to  preach  the  gospel ; 
and  settled  at  Newport,  as  pastor  of  the  second  church, 
where  he  continued  from  1755  to  1776.  During  this, 
and  several  succeeding  years,  the  enemy  were  in  posses^ 
sion  of  Newport ;  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  scat- 
Dr.  Stiles  was  solicited  to  preach  in  several  places,  but 
he  accepted  the  invitation  from  the  church  at  Portsmouth  to 
remove  and  settle  with  them.  In  this  place  he  was  universally 
admired.  He  has  left  acknowledgments  of  the  kind  attention 
of  this  people  ;  they  indulged  a  pride  in  the  relation  which  sub- 
sisted between  them.  They  thought  him  the  most  learned  man 
of  the  age,  were  willing  to  hear  very  long  sermons,  some  of  them 
very  critical  disquisitions ;  because  they  flowed  from  the  lips  of 
Dr.  Stiles.  There  were  many  polite  families  in  the  place. 
The  doctor  was  a  gentleman  in  his  manners.  His  mildness,  con- 
descension, fluency  in  conversation,  entertaining  and  instructive 
mode  of  giving  his  opinion,  endeared  him  to  those  who  felt  a 
reverence  for  his  character.  He  had  a  kind  of  familiar  inter- 
course which  was  very  pleasing  to  all  classes  of  people,  especially 
the  rising  generation.  He  would  excite  their  emulation  and 
make  them  think  favourably  of  themselves.     Hence  some  have 


tered. 


430  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

called  him  flatterer,  which  was  not  the  case.  His  candid  spirit, 
and  a  disposition  to  view  every  person  in  the  best  light,  and  to 
put  the  best  construction  upon  every  action,  made  him  speak 
and  act  as  though  he  coveted  the  good  opinion  of  others,  by 
addresses  to  th^ir  vanity.  But  his  acquaintance  knew  where 
to  trace  the  cause.  They  had  as  high  an  opinion  of  his  inte- 
grity as  of  his  charity  and  affability.  His  private  diary  discovers 
his  sincerity.  In  this  he  celebrates  the  virtues  and  accomplish- 
ments of  persons  who  could  make  no  return.  He  might  betray 
want  of  judgment,  in  some  instances,  but  cannot  be  accused  of 
paying  empty  compliments ;  he  certainly  had  a  greater  know- 
ledo-e  of  books  than  of  mankind. 

In  1778,  he  was  chosen  president  of  Yale  College,  to  the 
great  disappointment  of  the  Portsmouth  church.  They  wished 
to  fix  him  as  their  pastor.  But  this  election  gave  pleasure  to 
the  friends  of  science.  The  plain  language  of  Dr.  Chauncy  ex- 
pressed the  wish  of  the  public,  while  it  declared  the  opinion  of 
the  Boston  association  :  <'  I  know  of  none,"  said  he,  *' but  who 
rejoice  at  the  election  to  the  presidency,  and  unite  in  the  opinion 
that  you  are  loudly  called  to  accept  the  appointment."  On 
the  8th  of  July,  1778,  he  was  inducted  into  the  office.  In  this 
conspicuous  orb  he  shone  with  uncommon  lustre  a  number  of 
years,  Avas  an  honour  to  the  college  and  his  country,  and  left  a 
name  worthy  of  everlasting  remembrance.  He  died  on  the  12th 
of  May,  1795,-  aged  (38. 

His  character  is  delineated  in  the  public  papers,  and  in  seve- 
ral sermons ;  memoirs  have  also  been  printed  by  Dr.  Holmes, 
in  an  octavo  volume,  entitled  "  Life  of  President  Stiles,"  which 
is  a  very  interesting  and  very  useful  work,  containing  many  en- 
tertaining anecdotes,  biographical  sketches,  and  much  literary 
information,  besides  a  minute  and  very  just  account  of  the  presi- 
dent. Dr.  Stiles  had  every  literary  honour  which  his  country 
could  bestow  upon  him,  was  a  member  of  many  learned  societies 
abroad,  and  was  the  intimate  friend  and  correspondent  of  the 
first  characters  in  Europe  and  America.  His  publications  are 
not  numerous.  They  are  known  in  the  learned  world,  and  con- 
sist of  philosophical  essays  and  historical  narratives,*  but 
chiefly  sermons  and  theological  tracts. 


*  See  Dr.  Holmes's  book. 


PHILIP   DODDRIDGE. 


431 


PHILIP  DODDRIDGE. 


HILIP  DODDKIDGE,  the  twentiM  child 
of  an  oilman,  in  London,  whose  father  had 
been  ejected  from  the  rectory  of  Shepperton 
by  the  act  of  uniformity,  was  born  on  the 
26th  of  June,  1702.  For  some  hours  after 
i  his  birth,  he  exhibited  no  signs  of  life ;  and 
^  his  relatives  doubted  the  possibility  of  his  sur- 
viving the  usual  perils  of  infancy.  His  health 
continued  to  be  so  remarkably  delicate  through 
ife,  that  on  every  recurrence  of  his  birthday, 
after  he  had  arrived  at  years  of  discretion,  he  ex- 
pressed his  astonishment  at  having  been  so  long 
preserved.  His  mother  taught  him  some  portion  of 
--^y  Scripture  history,  before  he  could  read,  by  means  of 
the  figured  Dutch  tiles  which  ornamented  the  chimney 
of  her  apartment.  He  became  an  orphan  at  an  early 
age,  and  his  guardian  basely  dissipated  the  little  fortune  which 
his  father  had  bequeathed  him ;  so  that,  while  yet  a  mere  boy, 
he  found  himself  utterly  destitute.  At  this  time,  he  was  study- 
ing at  a  private  school  at  St.  Alban's;  and,  fortunately,  his 
application  and  pious  deportment  had  attracted  the  notice  of 
Dr.  Clarke,  a  dissenting  minister  of  that  place,  who  kindly 
charged  himself  with  the  conduct  and  expense  of  his  further 
education. 

In  1716,  he  began  to  keep  a  diary,  in  which  he  regularly 
accounted  for  every  hour  of  his  time.  It  was  his  custom,  at 
this  period,  although  only  fourteen  years  of  age,  to  visit  the 
poor,  and  discourse  with  them  on  religious  subjects,  occasionally 
administering  to  their  necessities  out  of  his  own  slender  allow- 
ance. In  1718,  he  went  to  reside  with  his  sister,  at  Ongar,  in 
Essex  ;  and  his  uncle,  who  was  steward  to  the  Duke  of  Bedford, 
Roon  afterwards  procured  him  the  notice  of  some  members  of 


432  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

that  nobleman's  family.  The  duchess  liberally  offered  to  sup- 
port him  at  the  university,  and  to  procure  him  preferment  in 
the  church,  if  she  should  live  until  he  had  taken  orders ;  but 
Doddridge  felt  compelled  to  decline  this  kind  proposal,  on 
account  of  his  scruples  as  to  the  thirty-nine  articles.  In  the 
attainment  of  his  favourite  object,  that  of  becoming  a  dissenting 
preacher,  he  met  with  serious  obstacles.  "I  waited,"  he  says, 
"on  Dr.  Edmund  Calamy,  to  beg  his  advice  and  assistance,  that 
I  might  be  brought  up  a  minister,  which  was  always  my  great 
desire.  He  gave  me  no  encouragement  in  it,  but  advised  me 
to  turn  my  thoughts  to  something  else." 

He  received  this  advice  with  great  concern,  but  resolving 
"to  follow  Providence,  and  not  to  force  it,"  he  was  soon  after- 
wards about  to  embrace  an  advantageous  opportunity  of  enter- 
ing upon  the  study  of  the  law ;  but  before  coming  to  a  final 
resolution  on  the  subject,  he  devoted  one  morning  to  earnest 
solicitation  for  guidance  from  the  Almighty ;  and  while  thus 
engaged,  a  letter  was  brought  to  him  from  Dr.  Clarke,  in 
which  his  benefactor  offered  to  advance  him  to  the  pastoral  office. 
Regarding  this  communication,  to  use  his  own  words,  "almost 
as  an  answ^er  from  Heaven,"  he  hastened  to  St.  Alban's; 
whence,  after  passing  some  time  with  his  generous  friend,  he 
removed,  in  October,  1719,  to  a  dissenting  academy,  kept  by 
Mr.  John  Jennings,  at  Kibworth,  and  afterwards  at  Hinckley, 
in  Leicestershire,  where  he  pursued  his  studies  with  extraordi- 
nary diligence  and  success ;  being  not  only  ardent,  but  admi- 
rably methodical  in  his  pursuit  of  knowledge.  The  notes  which 
he  made  on  Homer,  it  is  said,  would  be  sufficient  to  fill  a  very 
large  volume ;  and  he  enriched  an  interleaved  copy  of  the  Bible 
with  a  vast  quantity  of  extracts  and  observations,  elucidatory 
of  the  text,  from  the  works  of  many  eminent  divines.  While 
thus  occupied,  he  found,  as  he  states,  "  that  an  hour  spent  every 
morning  in  private  prayer  and  meditation  gave  him  spirit  and 
vigour  for  the  business  of  the  day,  and  kept  his  temper  active, 
patient,  and  calm." 

Among  his  private  papers,  written  about  this  period,  was  a 
solemn  pledge  to  devote  himself,  his  time,  and  his  abilities,  to 
the  service  of  religion,  (which  it  appears  he  read  over  once  a 
week,  to  remind  him  of  his  duty,)  and  a  set  of  rules  for  his 
general  guidance.     By   these,   he  enforced  upon  himself  the 


PHILIP  DODDRIDGE.  433 

necessity  of  rising  early  ;  of  returning  solemn  thanks  for  the 
mercies  of  the  night,  and  imploring  Divine  aid  through  the  busi- 
ness of  the  day ;  of  divesting  his  mind,  while  engaged  in  prayer, 
of  every  thing  else,  either  external  or  internal ;  of  reading  the 
Scriptures  daily ;  of  never  trifling  with  a  book  with  which  he 
had.  no  business  ;  of  never  losing  a  minute  of  time,  or  incurring 
any  unnecessary  expense,  so  that  he  might  have  the  more  to 
spend  for  God  ;  of  endeavouring  to  make  himself  agreeable  and 
useful,  by  tender,  compassionate,  and  friendly  deportment ;  of 
being  very  moderate  at  meals;  and  of  never  delaying  any  thing, 
unless  he  could  prove  that  another  time  would  be  more  fit  than 
the  present,  or  that  some  other  more  important  duty  required 
his  immediate  attention. 

In  July,  1722,  being  then  in  the  twentieth  year  of  his  age, 
he  began  his  ministerial  labours  as  preacher  to  a  small  congre- 
gation at  Kibworth,  where  he  describes  himself,  in  answer  to  a 
friend  who  had  condoled  with  him  on  being  almost  buried  alive, 
as  freely  indulging  in  those  delightful  studies  Avhich  a  favour- 
able Providence  had  made  the  business  of  his  life.  "  One  day,'* 
added  he,  ''passeth  away  after  another,  and  I  only  know  that 
it  passeth  pleasantly  with  me." 

In  1727,  he  was  chosen  assistant  preacher  at  Market  Har- 
borough,  and  received  invitations  to  accept  other  more  import- 
ant pastoral  stations,  which,  however,  he  declined.  In  1729, 
by  the  solicitation  of  Dr.  Watts  and  others,  but  with  some 
reluctance,  he  formed  an  establishment  for  the  education  of 
young  men  who  were  designed  for  the  ministry.  The  dissenters 
of  Northampton  soon  afterwards  earnestly  solicited  him  to  be- 
come their  pastor ;  but  he  refused  to  quit  his  congregation, 
dreading,  as  he  states,  to  engage  in  more  business  than  he  was 
capable  of  performing ;  and,  on  a  repetition  of  their  request, 
preached  a  sermon  to  them  from  the  following  text : — "  And 
when  he  would  not  be  persuaded,  we  ceased,  saying,  the  will  of 
the  Lord  be  done."  (Acts  xxi.  14.)  On  returning  from  chapel, 
he  passed  through  a  room  of  the  house  where  he  lodged,  in 
which  a  child  was  reading  to  his  mother.  "  The  only  words  I 
heard  distinctly,''*  says  Doddridge,  "were  these: — 'And  as  thy 
days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be.'     Still  I  persisted  in  my  refusal." 

His  resolution  was,  however,  at  length  overcome,  and  he 
removed  to  Northampton  on  the  24th  of  December,  1729.  His 
55  2  0 


434  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 

ordination,  uith  the  usual  ceremonies,  took  place  in  March,  1730 , 
and,  in  the  following  December,  he  married  a  lady  named  Maris. 
On  this  occasion,  he  drew  up  the  following  rules  for  his  conduct 
as  a  husband: — '<It  shall  be  my  daily  care  to  keep  up  the  spirit 
of  piety  in  my  conversation  with  my  wife  ;  to  recommend  her 
to  the  Divine  blessing ;  to  manifest  an  obliging,  tender  disposi- 
tion towards  her ;  and  particularly  to  avoid  every  thing  which 
has  the  appearance  of  pettishness,  to  which,  amidst  my  various 
cares  and  labours,  I  may  in  some  unguarded  moments  be  liable." 

In  the  year  of  his  ordination  and  marriage,  he  published  a 
treatise,  entitled  <■'  Free  Thoughts  on  the  most  Probable  Means 
of  Reviving  the  Dissenting  Interest,  occasioned  by  the  late 
Inquiry  into  the  Causes  of  its  Decay;"  in  1732,  "Sermons  on 
the  Education  of  Children ;"  in  1735,  "  Sermons  to  Young  Men ;" 
in  1736,  "  Ten  Sermons  on  the  Power  and  Grace  of  Christ;  or, 
The  Evidences  of  His  Glorious  Gospel;"  in  1739,  the  first 
volume  of  his  "Family  Expositor,"  of  which  he  produced  a 
second  in  the  following  year.  In  1741,  appeared  his  "Practical 
Discourses  upon  Regeneration  ;"  and,  in  the  two  following  years, 
"  Three  Letters  to  the  Author  of  a  Treatise,  entitled  Christian- 
ity not  founded  in  Argument."  In  1743,  he  published  "The 
-Principles  of  the  Christian  Religion  expressed  in  Plain  and  Easy 
Verse,  divided  into  Lessons  for  the  Use  of  Children  and  Youth;" 
in  1745,  "The  Rise  and  Progress  of  Religion  in  the  Soul;"  in 
1747,  "  Remarkable  Passages  in  the  Life  of  Colonel  James  Gar- 
diner ;"  in  1748,  the  third  volume  of  his  "Family  Expositor;" 
and  also  "  The  Expository  Works  and  other  Remains  of  Arch- 
bishop Leighton."  His  last  production,  published  in  his  life- 
time, was  "A  Plain  and  Serious  Address  to  the  Master  of  a 
Family,  on  the  important  subject  of  Family  Religion." 

In  December,  1750,  while  travelling  to  St.  Alban's,  for  the 
purpose  of  preaching  a  funeral  sermon  on  Dr.  Clarke,  he  caught 
a  severe  cold,  from  which  he  appears  to  have  suffered  much 
throughout  the  winter.  In  the  spring  it  was  somewhat  alle- 
viated;  but  it  returned  with  such  alarming  violence,  in  the 
course  of  the  summer,  that  his  physicians  advdsed  him,  but  with- 
out effect,  to  suspend  his  laborious  employments.  He  preached 
his  last  sermon  in  July,  1751 ;  and  in  the  following  month  pro- 
ceeded to  Clifton,  in  the  hope  of  restoring  his  health,  by  means 
of  the  Hotwell  waters.     His  malady  increasing,  he  was  advised 


PHILIP   DODDRIDGE.  435 

to  fiiako  a  voyage  to  Lisbon,  but,  on  account  of  his  scanty  means, 
he  declined  to  adopt  the  recommendation.  A  clergyman  of  the 
Church  of  England,  to  whom  he  was  almost  a  stranger,  on  being 
made  acquainted  with  his  distressing  circumstances,  set  on  foot 
a  subscription  for  his  relief,  declaring,  "  That  it  would  be  an 
everlasting  reproach  to  the  church,  and  the  nation  in  general, 
if  a  man,  who  did  so  much  honour  to  Christianity,  and  who 
might,  if  his  conscience  had  not  prevented,  have  obtained  the 
highest  ecclesiastical  dignities,  should,  on  account  of  his  circum- 
stances, be  discouraged  from  taking  a  step  on  which  his  life 
depended."  An  ample  sum  was  soon  raised,  and  Doddridge 
hastened  to  Falmouth ;  on  reaching  which,  he  appeared  to  be  so 
much  worse,  that  his  wife  suggested  the  propriety  of  his  return- 
ing home,  or  remaining  where  he  was ;  but  he  replied,  calmly, 
"  The  die  is  cast,  and  I  choose  to  go."  He  accordingly  em- 
barked on  the  30th  of  September,  and  reached  Lisbon  on  the 
13th  of  the  following  month  :  but  no  favourable  change  in  hi3 
health  took  place ;  and  he  became  sensible  that  the  termination 
of  his  earthly  career  was  rapidly  approaching.  The  serenity 
of  his  last  moments  was  interrupted  only  by  the  regret  which 
he  felt  at  leaving  his  amiable  and  beloved  wife  a  friendless  widow 
in  a  foreign  land.  His  death  took  place  within  a  fortnight  after 
he  had  landed,  (on  the  26th  of  October,  1751,)  and  his  remains 
were  interred  in  the  burial-ground  of  the  British  factory.  His 
congregation  erected  a  monument  to  his  memory  at  the  meeting- 
house in  Northampton,  and  liberally  provided  for  his  wife  and 
children. 

He  left  the  manuscript  in  shorthand,  but  partly  transcribed 
for  the  press,  of  the  last  three  volumes  of  his  "  Family  Exposi- 
tor ;"  which  Orton,  who,  with  some  of  his  pupils,  completed  the 
transcript,  published  in'  1754  and  1756.  In  1763,  appeared 
his  "Lectures  on  the  Principal  Subjects  of  Pneumatology,  Ethics, 
and  Divinity;"  of  these  a  new  and  improved  edition  was  printed 
in  1794 ;  and  recently  a  large  and  very  interesting  collection 
of  his  letters  has  been  presented  to  the  public. 

In  person,  Doddridge  was  rather  above  the  middle  height ; 
and  particularly  slender.  The  expression  of  his  countenance 
was  sprightly,  and  his  deportment  polite  and  engaging.  His 
familiar  discourse  was  always  agreeable,  and  not  unfrequently 
brilliant.     Although  a  man   of  sincere  piety,  and  a  strict  and 


436  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTLVNS. 

dignified  observer  of  his  pastoral  duties,  he  was  particularly 
gay,  and  often  facetious  among  friends,  or  in  the  bosom  of  his 
family.  He  took  as  much  delight  in  innocent  mirth  as  a  child, 
and  was  by  far  the  most  lively  and  amusing  member  of  the 
circle  in  which  he  moved. 

In  the  pulpit,  he  is  described  as  having  been  a  great  master 
of  the  passions:  his  manner  was  earnest;  and  all  that  he  said 
appeared  to  be  the  result  of  conviction.  To  strangers,  his  de- 
livery and  gestures  appeared  artificially  vehement ;  but  those 
who  were  acquainted  with  the  vivacity  of  his  temper,  considered 
his  energy,  as  a  preacher,  perfectly  natural  and  unaff'ected.  For 
some  time,  he  prepared  Ids  discourses  with  great  care,  but  the 
multiplicity  of  his  avocations  at  length  compelled  him  to  extem- 
porize. While  at  Kibworth,  his  library  was  so  small  that  he 
borrowed  religious  books  from  his  congregation ;  and  these  be- 
ing for  the  most  part  practical  works,  led  him,  it  is  supposed, 
into  that  plain  and  useful  style  which  contributed  so  materially 
to  his  subsequent  success.  He  always  evinced  a  laudable  anx- 
iety to  be  well  understood.  "  I  fear,"  he  remarks,  on  one  occa- 
sion, i'  that  my  discourse  to-day  was  too  abstruse  for  my  hear- 
ers,— I  resolve  to  labour  after  greater  plainness,  and  bring 
down  my  preaching  to  the  understandings  of  the  weakest."  He 
never  descended  to  personal  invective  in  his  sermons,  and  care- 
fully avoided  engaging  in  controversy.  "Men  of  contrary 
parties,"  said  he,  "sit  down  more  attached  to  their  own  opinions, 
after  such  encounters,  than  they  were  at  the  beginning,  and 
much  more  estranged  in  their  affections." 

No  man  could  be  more  rigidly  watchful  of  his  own  conduct 
His  passions  appear  to  have  been  admirably  controlled  by  his 
piety ;  and  his  actions  were,  generally,  the  consequences  of 
sober  deliberation.  Twice  a  year  he  seriously  reviewed  what  he 
had  done,  and  omitted  to  do,  during  the  preceding  six  months ; 
and  formed  resolutions  for  future  improvement.  Before  he 
went  on  a  visit,  or  set  out  on  a  journey,  he  considered  what  op- 
portunities he  might  have  of  doing  good,  so  that  he  might  be 
prepared  to  embrace  them ;  and  to  what  temptations  he  might 
be  exposed,  that  he  might  arm  himself  against  them.  Even  his 
benevolence  was  governed  by  previous  consideration.  "  I  have 
this  day,"  he  says,  in  one  of  his  annual  resolutions,  *  in  secret 
devotion  made  a  vow,  that  I  would  consecrate  a  tenth  part  of 


PHILIP   DODDRIDGE.  437 

tny  whole  income  to  charitable  uses,  and  an  eighth  part  of  the 
profit  of  my  books  to  occasional  contributions."  He  not  only 
carried  this  resolution  into  effect,  but  renewed  it  for  the  ensuing 
year.  Although  poor,  he  never  involved  himself  in  debt,  and 
always  had  a  trifle  of  cash  in  hand  at  the  close  of  his  annual 
accounts. 

Early  in  life,  he  had  wisely  resolved  to  be  an  early  riser,  and 
thenceforth,  unless  severely  indisposed,  quitted  his  bed,  winter 
and  summer,  at  five  o'clock.  "I  am  generally  employed,"  he 
observes,  ''with  very  short  intervals,  from  morning  to  night, 
and  have  seldom  more  than  six  hours  in  bed ;  yet,  such  is  the 
goodness  of  God  to  me,  that  I  seldom  know  what  it  is  to  be 
^'eary."  In  his  Family  Expositor,  he  attributes  the  greater 
{)art  of  his  productions  to  his  having  invariably  risen  at  five, 
instead  of  seven  o'clock ;  a  practice  which,  if  pursued  for  forty 
years,  would,  he  observes,  add  a  fourth  of  that  period  to  a 
man's  life. 

As  a  tutor,  Doddridge  was  eminently  judicious  ;  as  a  father 
and  a  husband,  most  affectionate;  and  as  a  friend,  sincere  and 
amiable.  His  various  works,  especially  the  "Family  Expositor" 
and  his  ''Rise  and  Progress  of  Religion  in  the  Soul,"  have  be- 
come so  extensively  popular,  and  obtained  so  much  applause 
from  the  most  eminent  critics,  that  to  eulogize  them  would  be 
sheer  supererogation.  For  the  latter  production,  he  received 
the  thanks  of  many  eminent  divines;  and  the  Duchess  of  Somer- 
set, in  a  letter  to  Doddridge,  dated  in  1750,  observes,  "  I  may 
with  truth  assure  you,  that  I  never  was  so  deeply  affected  with 
any  thing  I  ever  met  with  as  with  that  book, — and  I  could  not 
be  easy  till  I  had  given  one  to  every  servant  in  my  house." 
His  "Family  Expositor"  has  been  translated  into  almost  every 
European  language ;  and  his  sermons  on  "  The  Evidences  of 
Christianity"  have  long  constituted  one  of  the  first  subjects  on 
which  students  are  examined  at  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge. 
Simpson,  in  his  "  Plea,"  declares  that,  in  his  opinion,  no  single 
work  "is  equal  to  the  admirable  course  of  lectures  by  the  excel- 
lent Dr.  Doddridge;"  and  Dr.  Kippis  observes,  that  "he  was 
AOt  merely  a  great  man,  but  one  of  the  most  Christian  ministers 
that  ever  existed." 


2o2 


438 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


HANNAH  MORE. 


ISS  MORE  was  born  at  Stapleton,  in  Glou 
cestershire,  in  1745.  Her  father  was  a  man 
of  considerable  learning,  a  teacher  of  school 
in  Stapleton,  and  a  member  of  the  Church  of 
England.  He  took  pleasure  in  narrating  to 
his  children,  incidents  from  Greek  or  Roman 
history;  and  these  narratives  Hannah  at  an 
early  age,  listened  to  with  interest  and  delight. 
Her  intellectual  faculties  were  acute  and  active ; 
and  under  her  parent's  instructions  she  made  ra- 
pid progress  in  the  English  branches,  mathema- 
tics, and  Latin.  From  her  eldest  sister  she  learned 
French  ;  when  twelve  years  old,  she  entered  a  school 
at  Bristol,  of  which  her  sister  was  teacher  ;  and  when 
sixteen,  attended  Sheridan's  lectures  on  eloquence. 
During  this  time,  her  taste  and  talent  for  poetry  had 
been  developing ;  and  some  of  her  verses,  on  the  lectures,  hav- 
ing been  shown  to  Sheridan,  he  requested  an  introduction  to 
the  youthful  poetess.  When  seventeen,  she  wrote  the  pastoral 
drama,  "  Search  after  Happiness  ;"  and  during  the  same  period, 
or  a  little  later,  produced  translations  from  the  Latin,  Spanish, 
and  Italian  languages.  After  her  unhappy  acquaintance  with  Mr. 
Turner  had  terminated,  she  devoted  her  time  exclusively  to  lite- 
rature, and  to  the  amusements  of  fashionable  life.  Such  devo- 
tion is  incompatible  with  growth  in  grace  ;  and  though  during 
several  years,  Miss  More  professed,  and  sometimes  defended, 
Christianity,  yet,  judging  from  her  correspondence,  it  appears  to 
have  maintained  but  feeble  influence  over  her.  The  world  was 
her  idol ;  in  pursuit  of  its  pleasures  and  applause,  she  devoted 
every  energy  of  her  mind ;  and  while  in  sober  moments  she 
glanced  over  a  religious  book,  her  seasons  of  relaxation  were 
Bpent  in  the  ball-room  and  the  theatre. 


HANNAH   MORE.  439 

The   first  interruption  of  this  worldly  course  was  occasioned 
by  the  death  of  her  friend  and   patron,  Garrick  the  tragedian. 
From  this  period,  a  change  in  the  tone  of  her  correspondence 
h  visible,  and  she  became,  in  her  appearance,  more  serious  and 
thoughtful.     The  change  wrought  gradually  for  ten  years  ;  the 
world,  during  that  period,  continued  to  lose  its  charms  to  her ; 
and  in  1785,  she   abandoned  London,  the   scene   of  her  many 
follies,   and  repaired  to  a  small   country-seat  named   Cowslip 
Green.     Here  her  principal  employments  were  reading,  medita- 
tion, occasional  correspondence,   and   gardening.     By  way  of 
public  remonstrance   against  the  life  she  had  formerly  led,  she 
published  her  "  Manners  of  the   Great,"  which   excited  great 
interest,  and  passed  through  several   editions  in  a  few  weeks. 
In  1789,  while  making  occasional   rambles  in  the  surrounding 
villages   with    her   sister  Martha,  she  was  so   struck  with    the 
ignorance  and  immorality  of  the  poor   as  to  adopt  the  resolu 
tion  of  establishing  schools  for  their  instruction.     The  sisters 
soon   decided  on  a  plan  ;  a  school  was  formed  at  the  romantic 
village  of  Cheddar,  and  in  a  short  time  three    hundred   chil- 
dren were  under  instruction.     Such  was  the  success  of  the  first 
trial,  that   schools  multiplied   in  all  the  neighbouring  villages, 
and  the  care  of  them  engrossed  nearly  all  of  Miss  More's  time. 
She  was  warmly  seconded  by  her  sister;   "and  notwithstanding 
many  discouragements,  they  planted  schools   in  ten  parishes, 
and  superintended  the   education  of  twelve  hundred  children. 
When  their  funds  were   exhausted,  they  were   supplied   from 
those  of  Wilberforce,  Newton,  and  others.     As  the  work  pros- 
pered, it  led  to  other  useful  measures.     Parents  were  invited  on 
Sabbath  evenings  to  hear  the  reading  of  a  sermon  ;  Bibles  and 
Prayer  Books  were  distributed ;   and  a  system   of  catechising 
established."     Many  reprobates  (says  Miss  More)  were  by  the 
blessing  of  God  awakened,  and   many  swearers    and  Sabbath 
breakers    reclaimed.      The    numbers    both   of  young    and    old 
scholars  increased,  and  the  daily  life  and  conversation  of  many 
seemed  to  keep  pace  with  their  religious  profession  on  Sunday. 

At  this  time,  the  depth  of  wickedness  to  which  the  French 
republicans  had  attained,  was  hurrying  into  its  vortex  a  consi- 
derable portion  of  the  British  population,  especially  among  the 
poor.  The  framework  of  societ}^  was  shaken,  and  a  spirit  of 
atheism  seemed  to  be  fast  supplanting  the   creeds  of  nations. 


440  LIVES    OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

In  this  state  of  affairs.  Miss  More  was  urged  from  all  sides  to 
produce  some  small  tract,  which,  being  extensively  circulated, 
might  serve  to  counteract  the  French  influence.  After  long 
hesitation,  she  published  her  "Village  Dialogues,  by  Will  Chip," 
of  which  hundreds  of  thousands  of  copies  were  distributed.  It 
was  followed  by  her '' Remarks"  on  the  atheistical  speech  of 
Dupont  in  the  National  Convention  ;  by  the  ''Village  Politics;'* 
and  the  series  of  "  Cheap  Repository  Tracts.''  Of  the  latter, 
two  millions  were  sold  the  first  year.  In  1799,  appeared  her 
"  Strictures  on  Female  Education,"  which,  though  subjecting 
her  to  some  groundless  assaults  at  that  time,  is  now  considered 
a  standard  work  on  female  education.  Six  years  after,  at  the 
solicitation  of  an  eminent  church  dignitary,  she  prepared  a 
work,  entitled,  ''Hints  towards  forming  the  character  of  a 
young  Princess,"  which  was  designed  for  Charlotte,  Princess  of 
Wales.  Previous  to  this,  she  had  removed  to  Barley  Wood, 
where  she  passed  her  time  in  seclusion  with  her  sisters.  Not 
long  after  the  publication  of  the  "Hints,"  she  was  seized  with 
severe  illness,  which,  during  two  years,  rendered  her  unfit  for 
bodily  or  mental  exertion;  and  scarcely  had  her  frame  begun 
to  acquire  strength,  than  she  was  called  upon  to  mourn  the  loss 
of  her  intimate  friend,  Bishop  Porteus,  to  whose  memory  she 
consecrated  an  urn  at  Barley  Wood.  In  1811,  she  published 
"Practical  Piety,"  and  "Christian  Morals."  After  a  considera- 
ble interval,  in  which  she  lost  a  sister,  she  gave  to  the  world 
one  of  her  favourite  productions — An  essay  on  the  character 
and  writings  of  St.  Paul.  Before  this  was  finished  an  accident 
occurred,  by  which  her  useful  labours  had  nearly  been  termi- 
nated by  a  dreadful  death.  Her  shawl  having  caught  fire, 
quickly  enveloped  her  in  flames,  which  partially  injured  her 
person  ;  and  the  immediate  danger,  though  soon  over,  left  her 
in  a  state  of  great  bodily  weakness.  Not  long  after,  two  of  her 
remaining  sisters  were  called  away  to  another  life. 

Though  now  in  her  seventieth  year,  this  indefatigable  woman 
continued  to  labour  in  the  cause  to  which  she  had  so  long  de- 
voted her  best  powers.  The  celebrity  of  her  literary  works, 
and  the  success  of  her  measures  of  philanthropy,  rendered  her 
country-seat  the  favourite  resort  of  the  most  illustrious  literati 
of  England.  Easy  and  unaffected  in  deportment.  Miss  More 
recommended  herself  to  the  esteem  of  her  visiters  by  her  amia- 


HANNAH   MORE.  441 

h\e  qualities  of  heart,  as  well  as  by  the  gifts  of  her  mind.  Hei 
productions  were  among  the  most  popular  in  England ;  they  were 
read  with  avidity  in  the  British  colonies  and  the  United  States ; 
and  several  of  them  were  translated  into  other  languages.  In 
1818,  a  letter  from  Ceylon  informed  her  that  Chief  Justice 
Johnston  of  that  island  had  caused  several  of  her  writings  to 
be  translated  into  the  Tamul  and  Cingalese  languages ;  and 
about  the' same  time,  two  Persian  nobles,  to  whom  she  presented 
a  copy, of  her  '' Practical  Piety,"  declared  their  intention  of 
having  it  translated  on  their  arrival  at  home. 

After  recovery  from  severe  illness,  which  for  a  time  threat- 
ened her  life.  Miss  More  published  her  popular  book,  called 
Moral  Sketches.  While  the  admiration  of  the  public  was 
lavished  on  her  on  account  of  this  work,  the  death  of  Martha, 
her  only  surviving  sister,  occurred  ;  and,  in  the  following  year, 
her  own  health  began  rapidly  to  fail.  During  the  summer  and 
autumn  of  1820,  various  attacks  of  illness  threatened  to  termi- 
nate her  life.  These  afflictions  she  bore  with  Christian  forti- 
tude, dwelling  in  thought  and  conversation  upon  the  promises 
of  Scripture,  and  expressing  her  willingness  to  depart,  and  be 
with  Christ.  She  was  again  restored  to  partial  health;  and 
again,  in  1822,  prostrated  by  an  attack  of  inflammation  on  the 
chest.  Contrary  to  her  friends'  expectations  and  her  own,  she 
recovered  to  nearly  her  former  health ;  so  that  Barley  Wood 
again  became  the  resort  of  the  learned  and  the  pious.  A  respite 
of  two  years  afforded  her  many  opportunities  to  exercise  her 
varied  benevolence  ;  but,  in  1824,  she  was  again  laid  upon  a  bed 
of  sickness.  On  recovering,  she  extracted  from  her  later  works 
passages  on  prayer,  which  she  published  in  a  small  volume, 
called  the  "Spirit  of  Prayer."  It  passed  through  three  edj- 
tions  in  three  months. 

By  the  death  of  Martha,  the  pecuniary  management  of  the 
household  had  devolved  on  Miss  More.  She  was  habitually 
negligent  in  household  affairs  ;  and  of  this  the  servants  took 
advantage  to  defraud  her  to  a  large  amount.  She,  therefore, 
resolved  to  sell  Barley  Wood  ;  and  having  dismissed  her  attend- 
ants, she  repaired  to  Clifton.  She  entered  her  new  residence, 
April  18,  1828,  in  the  eighty-third  year  of  her  age.  From  this 
time  her  health  gradually  declined ;  sudden  attacks  of  pain  or 
tlebility  left  her  weak  and  nervous  ;  and  her  continual  cheer- 
5G 


442  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 

fulness  only  rendered  the  appreciation  of  her  sufferings  more 
painful  to  her  friends.  By  unremitting  care,  the  approaches 
of  death  were  baffled,  until  1832,  when  a  change  for  the  worse, 
both  in  body  and  mind,  took  place.  Almost  imperceptibl;y  the 
splendour  of  her  intellect  dimmed  and  wasted;  but  her  disposi- 
tion was  still  kind  and  gentle.  She  lingered  until  the  autumn 
of  1833,  when  the  symptoms  of  disease  increased  to  an  alarm- 
ing degree.  The  violence  of  her  disorder  could  not  diminish 
]\cv  faith  in  the  promises  of  God,  nor  disturb  the  tranquillity 
of  her  mind.  "What  can  I  do,  (was  her  language,)  what  can 
I  not  do  with  Christ?  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth. 
Happy,  happy  are  those  who  expect  to  be  together  in  a  better 
Avorld.  The  thought  of  that  world  lifts  the  mind  above  itself. 
Oh,  the  love  of  Christ,  the  love  of  Christ."  Again,  when  in 
much  pain,  she  prayed — "  Lord,  strengthen  my  resignation  to 
thy  holy  will.  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me,  a  poor  miserable 
sinner.  Thou  hast  not  left  me  comfortless,  0  Lord ;  strengthen  me 
in  the  knowledge  of  my  Saviour  Christ,  whom  I  love  and  honour." 
Such  was  the  manner  in  which  this  woman  of  many  honours 
expressed,  in  view  of  death,  her  confidence  in  a  happy  immor- 
tality. "  On  Friday,  the  6th  of  September,  1833,  (we  con- 
dense the  account  of  an  eye-witness,)  the  morning  devotion  was 
offered  up  at  her  bed-side.  There  was  an  unusual  brightness 
in  her  face.  She  smiled,  and  endeavouring  to  raise  herself,  she 
reached  out  her  arms,  as  if  catching  at  something,  and  ex- 
claimed, '  Joy.'  In  this  state  of  quietness  and  inward  peace 
she  remained  for  about  half  an  hour,  when  Dr.  Carrick  came. 
The  pulse  had  become  extremely  quick  and  weak.  At  about 
ten,  the  symptoms  of  speedy  departure  could  not  be  doubted. 
She  fell  into  a  dozing  sleep,  and  slight  convulsions  succeeded, 
which  seemed  to  be  attended  with  no  pain.  The  pulse  'became 
fainter  and  fainter,  and  as  quick  as  lightning.  It  was  almost 
extinct  from  twelve  o'clock,  when  the  whole  frame  was  very 
serene.  With  the  exception  of  a  sigh  or  a  groan,  there  was 
nothing  but  the  gentle  breathing  of  infant  sleep.  Contrary  to 
expectation,  she  survived  the  night.  On  Saturday,  she  conti- 
nued till  ten  minutes  after  one,  when  I  saw  the  last  gentle 
breath  escape,  and  one  more  was  added  to  that  multitude  which 
no  man  can  number,  who  sing  the  praises  of  God,  and  of  the 
Lamb,  for  ever  and  ever." 


HANNAH   MORE.  443 

We  need  add  but  little  to  this  sketch  of  Hannah  More.  Her 
character  is  strongly  marked  in  her  writings  ;  her  influence  was 
ever  for  good,  and  her  example  was  a  pattern  of  that  religion 
of  which  she  was  the  untiring  advocate.  In  her  is  exemplified 
the  power  of  Divine  grace  over  the  soul ;  and  her  case  is  one 
among  the  many,  which  illustrate  the  all-important  duty  of  pa- 
rents to  inculcate,  in  the  minds  of  their  children,  early  reli- 
gious impressions.  Though  calumniated  by  open  falsehood  or 
dark  insinuation,  she  refuted  her  enemies  rather  by  displays  of 
Christian  character  than  by  the  direct  weapons  of  argument ; 
and  while  many  of  bolder  pretensions  would  have  sunk  under 
the  assaults  made  upon  her,  she  grew  stronger  after  every  at- 
tack, because  her  unshaken  faith  in  God  manifested  itself  rather 
by  deeds  than  by  words. 


44i 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


DAVID  ZIESBERGER. 


lESBERGER  was  born  in  1725,  at  Zauch- 
tenthal,  in  Moravia.  When  quite  young  he 
moved  with  his  parents  to  Herrnhut,  and  when 
fifteen  he  was  employed  by  Count  Zinzendorf 
in  Holland.  Through  that  eminent  man  he 
became  acquainted  with  the  Princess  of 
Orange,  to  whom  his  winning  manners  rendered 
him  a  favourite.  This  fair  chance  for  advance- 
ment Ziesberger  abandoned;  and  embarking  at 
London,  sailed  for  Georgia.  At  the  Moravian 
settlement  in  that  province,  he  found  his  parents ; 
and  here  the  energy  of  his  character  was  first 
awakened.  The  settlement  was  in  destitution;  no 
one  could  help  another;  each  earned,  with  hard  toil, 
a  scanty  subsistence  for  himself  and  family.  Ziesber- 
ger, though  still  a  youth,  embraced  this  rough  life 
v.ith  alacrity.  Danger  and  adventure  had  for  him  a  charm, 
which  brought  into  exercise  the  finest  traits  of  his  character. 
Not  unfrequently  he  roamed  through  the  forests  at  night,  either 
seeking  game,  or  tracking  the  wild  animals  which  then  abounded 
in  the  south ;  and  on  a  few  of  these  occasions  he  very  narrowly 
escaped  with  his  life. 

It  was  during  this  life  of  adventure  that  his  thoughts  were 
first  turned  to  the  serious  consideration  of  religion.  Before 
conversion  he  is  said  to  have  answered  a  friend  who  pressed 
upon  him  the  necessity  of  giving  his  heart  to  God,  "I  shall 
be  devoted  to  God,  and  then  all  of  you  will  perceive,  that  that 
great  change  has  taken  place  in  deed  and  in  truth."  The  ex- 
pression was  characteristic;  it  also  shows,  perhaps,  that  then 
and  perhaps  long  before,  a  silent  but  powerful  voice  was  whis- 
pering to  him  the  necessity  of  that  great  change.  In  the 
following  year  what  he  had  foreseen  occurred.      The  Spirit  of 


DAVID   ZIESBERGER.  44^ 

God  wrought  powerfully  with  him,  and  he  could  find  no  rest 
until,  with  sincere  repentance,  he  sought  it  at  the  foot  of  the 
cross.  But  having  once  experienced  true  religion,  he  resolved 
"to  devote  himself,  soul  and  body,"  to  its  interests.  He  studied 
the  Mohawk  language;  he  associated  with  the  Iroquois,  and 
attended  their  councils ;  he  journeyed  far  to  the  north,  among 
the  tribes  of  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia.  In  a  few  years  he 
visited  Europe  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  assistance;  but  sooa 
returned  to  America,  and  entered  the  country  of  the  Six  Nations. 
It  was  not  long  after,  that  the  settlement  on  the  river  Mahony 
was  destroyed  by  Indians.  To  save  it,  Ziesberger  had  ridden 
all  night  alone,  but  was  not  able  to  reach  it  in  time  to  warn  the 
inhabitants  of  danger.  He  carried  the  news  to  Bethlehem,  the 
people  of  which  afterwards  collected  and  buried  the  bodies,  and 
adopted  such  means  of  defence  as  were  within  their  power. 
The  Indians  were  prevented  from  making  further  depredations ; 
and  the  Moravian  settlements,  six  in  number,  were  at  this  time 
in  a  more  flourishing  condition  than  at  any  period  previous. 
One  of  the  happiest  villages  was  Gnadenhuetten.  Here  Zies- 
berger and  Seidel  made  a  treaty  with  the  Nantikoke  Indians,, 
and  the  Shawanose.  Some  of  these  people  became  converts, 
and  their  earnest  unaffected  piety  was  highly  gratifying  to 
Ziesberger. 

The  success  of  the  missionaries  excited  the  jealousy  of  the- 
unconverted  Indians,  who  resolved  upon  breaking  up  the  settle- 
ment. This  was  to  be  effected  not  by  the  tomahawk,  which  had 
already  been  tried  in  vain,  but  by  a,  system  of  appeals  to  the 
passions  of  the  Christian  Indians.  This  was  so  successful,  that 
many  began  to  waver  at  the  persuasions  of  their  ancient  friends, 
who  painted  in  glowing  colours  their  war-feasts,  their  battles, 
and  especially  the  character  of  an  Indian  brave.  Many  became 
negligent  in  industry  and  religious  duty;  while  others  rejoined 
the  neighbouring  tribes.  The  evil  was  arrested  by  a  visit  from 
Ziesberger.  He  collected  the  converted  Indians  in  a  valley, 
delivered  to  them  a  touching  appeal,  and  kneeling  down  with 
the  whole  assembly,  commended  them,  with  many  tears,  to  the 
mercy  an<l  protection  of  God.  The  wanderers  returned  to  duty; 
and  the  zeal  and  firmness  of  Ziesberger,  not  only  silenced  the 
insinuations  of  the  hostile  Indians,  but  were  the  means  of  con- 
verting the  wife  of  Paxonons,  a  powerful  chief  of  the  Mohegans. 

2P 


446  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

War  soon  after  impeded  tlie  Brethren's  operations.  Such 
hours  as  could  be  obtained  from  duty  and  danger  were  employed 
by  Ziesberger  in  compiling  a  grammar  and  vocabulary  of 
the  Iroquois  language,  and  in  translating  the  "Harmony  of  the 
Four  Gospels."  At  the  same  time  he  held  many  conferences 
with  the  Indians,  and  conducted  with  them  negotiations  on  the 
part  of  the  government.  Six  years  were  thus  passed — years 
of  toil,  and  danger,  and  privation,  but  during  wdiich,  the  zeal  of 
Ziesberger  never  faltered  in  the  good  w^ork  which  he  had  under- 
taken to  perform.  During  this  time,  the  great  Indian  teacher 
Papunhawk  was  converted.  His  case  was  a  triumph  of  grace. 
He  possessed  unbounded  influence  over  the  neighbouring  In- 
dians, who  considered  him  as  having  direct  communication  with 
the  Great  Spirit.  On  first  hearing  the  gospel  at  Nain,  he  burst 
into  tears,  exclaiming,  "  0  God,  have  mercy  upon  me — grant 
that  the  death  of  the  Saviour  may  be  made  manifest  to  me  !" 
Yet  this  man  paused  before  taking  the  decisive  step ;  his  pride 
recoiled  at  the  prospect  of  losing  his  influence  among  a  people 
who  idolized  him.  During  the  time  of  this  conflict,  Ziesberger 
visited  Machwihilusing  where  Papunhawk  resided.  He  was 
greeted  by  the  sight  of  the  entire  village  moving  toward  him 
to  hear  the  truth.  He  preached  day  after  day,  many  were 
converted;  and  Papunhawk,  giving  up  all  his  opposition,  became 
a  sincere  and  zealous  Christian. 

Still  the  settlements  were  in  great  danger.  The  savages  had 
laid  waste  the  country  with  fire  and  sword.  The  people  of 
Wechquetank  sought  refuge  in  Nazareth :  others  fled  from  one 
town  to  another.  The  town  of  Nain  was  blockaded  on  all  sides. 
At  the  same  time  more  trying  dangers  appeared,  in  a  different 
quarter.  The  colonists  had  become  so  infuriated  against  the 
Indians,  that  they  resolved  to  destroy  civilized  as  well  as  savage. 
During  four  weeks  the  Brethren  stood  on  their  defence,  watching 
day  and  night,  through  intensely  cold  weather,  and  expecting  a 
cruel  death,  if  not  from  the  red  men,  from  those  who  should 
have  exhausted  every  effort  to  assist  them.  At  length  a  govern- 
ment express  arrived  from  Philadelphia,  with  an  order  that  all 
the  ba})tized  Indians  should  be  conducted  to  that  city.  They 
arrived  there  in  safety,  and  remained  some  months.  Afterwards 
the  missionaries  conducted  them  to  Machwihilusing  on  the 
Susquehanna.      But   persecution  still   followed   these    devoted 


DAVID   ZIESBERGER.  447 

people.  Wech  qiietank  was  burned  by  the  white  people,  and  an 
attempt  of  like  nature  was  made  on  Bethlehem.  The  inhabi- 
tants of  Conestoga  near  Lancaster  were  assailed  by  fifty-seven 
whites,  and  fourteen  of  them  killed.  The  remainder  fled  to 
Lancaster,  implored  protection  of  the  magistrates,  and  were 
lodged  by  them  in  the  workhouse.  The  assailants  marched 
hither,  broke  into  the  building,  and  massacred  the  fugitives 
while  crying  for  mercy  on  their  knees.  Amid  these  scenes,  the 
energy  of  Ziesberger  in  behalf  of  the  converts  never  faltered.. 
He  resolved  to  found  a  settlement  on  the  remote  banks  of  the 
Susquehanna,  where  the  distant  Indian  tribes  might  be  assembled 
for  instruction.  Many  of  the  old  inhabitants  of  Bethlehem 
sold  their  lands,  and  deserted  the  homes  of  childhood,  to  ac- 
company him.  On  the  road  they  experienced  every  hardship^ 
Circuits  of  many  miles  had  to  be  taken,  to  avoid  the  Indians; 
at  night  they  lay  in  the  woods ;  occasionally  paths  had  to  be 
cut  through  the  forest;  rapid  streams  were  crossed,  in  frail 
canoes ;  then  came  stormy  weather,  accompanied  by  heavy  falls 
of  snow ;  and  at  length  their  scanty  provisions  began  to  fail. 
In  addition  to  these  troubles,  the  forests  caught  fire,  and  the 
whole  party  scarcely  escaped  with  their  lives.  But  their  Chris- 
tian patience  triumphed  over  these  difficulties,  and  they  were 
enabled  to  found  their  new  town,  Friedenshuetten,  on  the  distant 
banks  of  the  Susquehanna. 

The  description  of  these  really  Christian  men,  as  given  by 
their  leader,  is  a  refreshing  picture  of  that  life  which  they  only 
can  lead  whose  hearts  have  been  touched  by  the  finger  of  hea- 
venly love.  '<  In  rainy  weather  the  brethren  and  sisters  as- 
sembled in  small  companies  in  their  dwellings,  to  sing  and  praise 
the  Lord  for  his  mercies.  A  perfect  harmony  and  concord  pre- 
vailed among  them.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  see  how  judiciously 
they  planned  and  executed  the  work  of  each  day.  They  ap- 
peared like  a  swarm  of  bees.  Each  knew  his  proper  task,  and 
performed  it  readily.  Some  were  employed  in  building  houses, 
others  in  cleaning  the  land  ;  some  in  fishing,  to  provide  for  those 
at  work;  others  cared  for  the  house-keeping."  But  this  quiet 
was  soon  interrupted.  Tlie  Cayuga  Indians,  becoming  jealous 
of  the  Brethren's  prosperity,  ordered  them  to  leave  Frieden- 
shuetten ;  but  through  the  intercession  of  Ziesberger,  they  Avere 
induced  to  revoke  the  order^     But  the  joy  at  this  deliverance 


448  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

was  dampened,  by  intelligence  that  a  great  council  of  the  Iro 
quois  at  Yaminga  had  severely  reprimanded  the  chief  of  Cayuga, 
for  giving  land  to  the  Moravians  without  their  consent.  On 
hearing  this,  Ziesberger  journeyed  to  Onondago  alone,  to  have 
a  conference  with  the  Iroquois.  He  addressed  them  in  council, 
:and  after  mature  consideration  they  fully  ratified  the  Cayuga 
grant.' 

Meanwhile,  the  new  town  increased  rapidly.  The  Indians 
crowded  in  numbers  to  see  and  admire  it,  thus  introducing  them- 
selves to  the  influence  of  missionary  teaching.  Ziesberger  laboured 
with  increased  zeal,  and  witnessed  effects  of  his  labour  which 
thrilled  his  bosom  with  gratitude.  Senecas,  Tutelas,  Mohegans, 
and  Mohawks  mingled  their  tears  while  hearing  of  the  name 
of  Jesus.  Ziesberger  was  adopted  to  the  great  privilege  of  bro- 
therhood with  the  Delawares,  and  in  1767  a  church,  spacious 
for  that  time,  was  erected  at  Friedenshuetten. 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year,  Ziesberger,  accompanied  by  Pa 
punhawk,  made  a  journey  to  the  Ohio.  After  wandering  many 
dnjs  Avithout  seeing  a  human  being,  he  reached  a  solitary  hut, 
in  which  dwelt  an  Indian  hunter  with  his  family.  For  yeara 
this  man  had  lived  thus  secluded  from  all  society.  On  arriving 
among  the  Senecas,  Ziesberger  was  warned  about  proceeding  to 
Gosgoschuenk,  whose  inhabitants,  he  was  told,  had  not  their 
equals  in  wickedness  and  thirst  for  blood.  The  intrepid  mis 
sionary  made  the  noble  reply,  that,  if  they  were  so  wicked,  they 
stood  so  much  more  in  need  of  the  gospel  of  their  Redeemer ; 
but  that,  at  all  events,  he  did  not  fear  them.  On  arriving  at 
Gosgoschuenk,  he  at  night  addressed  a  great  assembly  of  the 
warriors  w4io  were  gathered  round  a  fire.  The  whole  history 
of  Ziesberger  is  wonderful ;  but  no  part  of  it  is  more  so  than 
that  he  escaped  alive  from  these  savages.  Most  of  the  warriors 
listened  with  indifference  or  contempt,  while  the  women  be- 
came his  enemies,  because  he  denounced  their  favourite  luxury 
of  prolonging  the  agonies  of  their  captives  by  excruciating 
tortures.  He  soon  became  a  hated  man,  and,  but  for  the 
friendly  shelter  afforded  by  a  relative  of  Papunhawdv,  would 
probably  have  been  put  to  death.  After  remaining  some  time, 
he  returned  to  Friedenshuetten,  where  he  collected  a  few  pious 
men,  and  again  set  out  for  Gosgoschuenk.  This  was  the  chosen 
'field  of  Ziesberger's  labours — the  harvest  where  he  exerted  every 


DAVID   ZIESBERGER.  449 

energy  of  mind  and  body  fruitage  for  his  lord.  His  small  com 
pany  built  a  block-house  to  protect  themselves  from  the  Indians, 
and,  when  the  cold  season  approached,  they  added  a  small  win- 
ter-house, where  the  sacrament  could  be  administered  to  the  In- 
dian Christians,  who  consisted  of  a  few  families.  After  a  dreary 
interval  of  alternate  hope  and  fear,  some  dawnings  of  a  better 
day  appeared.  Ziesberger  preached  every  day,  and  he  began  to 
perceive  that  a  few  of  his  hearers  appeared  serious  and  atten- 
tive. Some  weeks  after,  two  parties  arose  in  the  village.  The 
stronger  opposed  the  gospel  with  the  hatred  of  savages  ;  the 
others  declared  that,  rather  than  be  deprived  of  it,  they  would 
depart  and  dwell  elsewhere.  So  furious  was  the  contest  be- 
tween these  factions,  that  the  Moravians  prepared  to  depart. 
Three  of  the  hostile  Indians  attempted  to  detain  them,  but  were 
awed  into  silence  by  Ziesberger.  At  this  time,  a  joyful  event 
unexpectedly  took  place.  It  was  the  conversion  of  a  chief 
named  AUmewi,  who  was  one  hundred  and  twenty  years  old. 
He  had,  from  the  first,  given  his  countenance  and  protection  to 
the  missionaries,  and  at  length,  notwithstanding  the  scruples 
and  prejudices  of  age,  he  fully  embraced  the  gospel.  In  the 
Indian  assembly,  he  exclaimed,  "I  can  bear  it  no  longer,  my 
heart  is  full  within  me,  and  I  have  no  rest  night  nor  day.  Un- 
less I  shall  soon  receive  comfort,  I  shall  die."  He  was  baptized 
on  Christmas  day,  and,  until  his  death,  exerted  his  influence  for 
the  mission. 

The  brethren  had  now  completed  their  arrangements  for  the 
departure.  They  retired  to  a  distant  spot  on  the  river  bank, 
established  a  new  settlement,  and  lived  by  hunting  and  fishing. 
Here  they  received  intelligence  that  their  enemies  at  Gosgos- 
chuenk  had,  soon  after  their  departure,  begun  to  relent,  in  con- 
sequence of  which  a  solemn  assembly  was  convened  to  consider 
whether  they  should  receive  the  gospel.  "  Every  one,"  they 
decided,  "  has  full  liberty  to  hear  or  not  to  hear  it.  Whoever 
has  no  mind  to  hear,  may  stay  away  ;  for  the  Indians  are  a  free 
people,  and  will  never  be  slaves."  Ziesberger  was  entreated  to 
forget  all  former  injuries,  while,  at  the  same  time,  frank  con- 
fession was  made  that  a  band  of  murderers  had  long  before  sworn 
to  take  his  life.  The  poor,  half-starved  band  could  hardly 
believe  such  tidings  ;  but  they  were  true.  Numbers  of  the  peo- 
ple of  Gosgoschuenk ;  those  who  had  plotted  their  destruction, 
57  2p2 


450  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

wlio  had  never  spared  a  captive,  nor  known  kindness  or  pity, 
came  to  lay  their  savage  feelings  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  They 
stood  round  Zeisberger,  exclaiming  that  his  God  should  be  their 
God,  and  that  they  were  ready  to  accompany  him  wherever  he 
went.  He  soon  after  journeyed  still  further  down  the  Ohio, 
and  founded  a  new  town  at  the  Beaver  Falls.  It  was  named 
Friedenstadt.  Hither  he  was  followed  by  many  of  his  former 
enemies,  and  in  the  spring  he  became  acquainted  with  Netawat- 
wees,  the  greatest  chief  of  the  Del  a  wares,  and,  ever  after,  the 
missionary's  firm  friend.  He  invited  Ziesberger  to  form  a  new 
settlement  on  the  Muskingum,  about  seventy-five  miles  from 
Friedenstadt,  and  amid  scenery  of  the  most  romantic  charac- 
ter. Possession  was  taken  in  the  name  of  the  United  Brethren, 
and  some  of  their  number  began  to  build  the  town  of  Schoen- 
brunn — the  Beautiful  Spring — the  loveliest  of  all  Ziesberger's 
settlements,  and  the  one  which  lay  nearest  his  heart.  Here  he 
often  taught  his  Indian  pupils,  amid  the  seclusion  of  beautiful 
groves,  or  preached  by  the  waters  of  the  neighbouring  lakes. 
Sometimes  he  taught  in  the  school ;  sometimes  he  translated 
school  or  devotional  books  into  the  Indian  languages  ;  at  others, 
he  visited  the  sick  and  needy,  while,  more  rarely,  (strange  work 
for  a  minister,)  he  pursued  the  wolf  and  the  bear.  In  1776,  he 
founded  Lichteuau,  higher  up  the  Muskingum.  About  the  same 
time,  Netawatwees  and  his  nephew  were  converted.  This  was 
the  golden  period  of  Ziesberger's  career.  In  every  former  set- 
tlement he  had  felt,  after  a  time,  a  restlessness  of  mind — a 
persuasion  that  he  must  yet  seek  a  nobler  home.  Now  he  felt 
that  his  wish  was  granted.  The  Delaware  chief  was  devotedly 
attached  to  him,  and  the  whole  nation  gladly  received  the  words 
of  truth.  Embassies  came  from  distant  tribes,  declaring  their 
readiness  to  receive  the  gospel  and  their  personal  regard  for  the 
teacher. 

Yet  this  prosperity  was  alloyed  with  trouble.  The  Cherokees 
were  prevented  from  attacking  the  settlements  only  through  the 
decided  language  of  Netawatwees.  The  Senecas  next  invaded 
the  country,  and  in  the  following  year  Netawatwees  died.  His 
last  request  was  that  the  Delawares  should  hear  and  believe  the 
word  of  God  preached  by  the  Moravians.  Ziesberger  followed 
the  noble  warrior  to  his  burial-place,  weeping  with  the  bitter- 
ness of  a  child.     Soon  after,  a  war  broke  out  betvveen  the  Hu 


DAVID   ZIESBERGER  451 

rons  and  Senecas.  The  Delawares  joined  the  former,  and  or- 
-dered  the  missionaries  to  march  against  the  rebels  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Ohio,  kill  them,  and  send  their  scalps.  At  that 
crisis  Papunhawk  died.  Disasters  thickened  on  every  side,  and 
the  whole  country  was  a  scene  of  war  and  ravage.  Then 
White  Eye,  the  successor  of  Netawatwees,  died;  and  the  ene- 
mies of  Ziesberger,  becoming  bolder  and  more  cruel,  plotted 
against  his  life.  When  urged  to  fly,  he  replied,  "  If  I  am  in 
danger,  I  cannot  prevent  it,  and  w^ill  not  fly  from  it;  but  I 
commit  my  work,  my  fate,  my  future  course,  to  my  gracious 
Lord  and  Master,  whom  I  serve."  One  day  he  met  eight  Min- 
goes,  a  tribe  by  whom  he  was  hated,  and  who  had  resolved  upon 
his  death.  He  was  alone,  but  unawed ;  the  savages  quailed 
before  his  calm  courage,  and  in  a  few  moments  walked  swiftly 
away. 

During  the  revolutionary  war,  two  hundred  Huron  warriors, 
under  their  leader  Half  Kino-,  marched  aofainst  the  Moravians. 
Ziesberojer  sent  them  several  slauo-htered  oxen,  and  an  abun- 
dance  of  other  provisions.  Half  King  was  highly  gratified,  and 
next  day  entered  Lichtenau  with  eighty-two  men.  He  shook 
hands  heartily  with  Ziesberger,  visited  the  schools,  dined,  and 
made  a  treaty.  This  he  afterwards  broke,  attacked  Gnaden- 
huetten,  and  shot  all  the  cattle.  Ziesberger,  Senseman,  and 
Hockenwalder,  while  endeavouring  to  save  their  people,  were 
captured  and  carried  before  the  Half  King.  His  settlement, 
containing  all  his  books,  manuscripts,  and  translations,  were 
reduced  to  ashes.  Gnadenhuetten,  Salern,  and  Schoenbrunn 
were  deserted,  all  the  houses  and  fields  laid  waste,  and  the 
wretched  inhabitants  conducted  many  miles  into  the  wilderness 
by  a  band  of  Hurons.  Still  Ziesberger  bore  up,  and,  with 
three  companions,  went  to  Detroit  to  solicit  assistance  from  the 
government  at  that  place.  On  returning,  they  conducted  the 
brethren  to  the  shores  of  Lake  Erie.  Here  they  remained 
until  Governor  Schuyler  oft'ered  them  a  place  on  the  Huron 
river,  and  furnished  them  with  boats,  provisions,  and  other 
stores.  The  spot  was  one  of  great  beauty,  midway  between 
Lakes  Huron  and  Erie,  and  close  to  Lake  St.  Clair,  and  hither 
the  dispersed  Indian  converts,  who  had  been  scattered  into  va- 
rious parts,  eagerly  flocked.  Once  more  a  flourishing  settle- 
ment arose  in  the  wilderness,  and  once  more  Ziesberger  left  the 


452  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

society  of  those  he  had  gathered  there,  and  went  still  further 
back  to  found  another.  This  he  named  Goshen,  and  here  he 
spent  the  last  eight  years  of  his  life.  He  was  now  eighty  years 
of  age  ;  and,  during  sixty  years  of  that  time,  he  had  visited  the 
settled  States  but  three  times.  He  was  emphatically  a  man  of 
the  wilderness ;  for  its  children  he  toiled  and  suffered,  and 
even  when  he  had  begun  to  feel  the  infirmities  of  age,  his  hours 
were  occupied  in  translating  Scripture,  a  hymn-book,  and  other 
writings  into  the  Delaware  language.  When  no  longer  able  to 
travel,  he  visited  every  house  in  the  settlement  from  day  to 
day.  Total  blindness  caused  him  to  stop  the  affectionate  cus- 
tom. He  died  in  the  triumph  of  Christian  faith  in  October, 
1808,  in  the  eighty-eighth  year  of  his  age. 


SIR  ISAAC   NEWTON. 


453 


SIR   ISAAC   NEWTON. 


IR  ISAAC  NEWTON  as  a  Christian— as  the 

servant  of  God,  rather  than  as  the  greatest 
of  philosophers — is  the  subject  of  our  present 
sketch.  We  shall  be  obliged  therefore  to  pass 
in  a  rapid  manner  over  those  discoveries  by 
which  he  reduced  philosophy  to  a  system,  and 
which  have  justly  entitled  him  to  the  title  of  the 
greatest  of  all  philosphers. 
Isaac  Newton  was  born  (Dec.  25,  1642,  0.  S.) 
at  Woolsthorpe  Manor,  Lincolnshire.  Though 
extremely  diminutive  at  birth,  he  appears  to  have 
been  healthy  during  childhood,  a  circumstance 
partly  owing  to  his  residence  among  the  beautiful 
natural  scenery  of  his  native  valley.  His  father  had 
died  before  Isaac's  birth,  so  that  his  early  education 
was  wholly  intrusted  to  the  mother.  At  school  he  was 
dull  and  inattentive  ;  but  during  playhours  he  amused  himself 
in  making  or  inventing  toys  and  little  machines,  some  of  which 
astonished  much  older  schoolmates.  In  his  twelfth  year,  he  was 
placed  at  the  public  school  at  Grantham.  Here  he  made  a 
mill,  moved  by  a  mousey  and  a  water  clock.  At  night  he 
amused  himself  by  flying  kites  with  paper  lanterns  to  their  tails, 
which  the  alarmed  villagers  took  for  meteors  or  comets.  He 
also  attempted  drawing,  and  even  the  writing  of  verse.  But 
his  greatest  mechanical  effort  at  this  time  was  in  the  construc- 
tion of  a  sun-dial,  which  was  so  good  a  timepiece  as  to  be  long 
afterwards  celebrated  under  the  name  of  Isaac's  dial. 

It  was  the  wish  of  Newton's  mother  that  he  would  devote 
himself  to  the  farm  at  Woolsthorpe.  For  this  he  was  found 
utterly  incapable,  and,  through  the  influence  of  his  uncle,  was 
permitted  to  enter  Trinity  College.  Here  the  youthful  mechanic 
entered  upon  the  studies  for  whicli  nature  had  fitted  him;  his 


4^4  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

idleness  and  inattention  disappeared ;  he  speedily  mastered 
Euclid,  Descartes,  and  Kepler;  and  he  applied  the  theoretic 
knowledge  thus  obtained,  to  the  construction  of  the  philosophi- 
cal and  astronomical  instruments  then  in  use.  His  first  great 
discovery  was  the  solar  spectrum,  which  led  to  an  entirely  new 
theory  of  light  and  of  colours,  and  to  a  reconstruction  of  the 
refracting  telescope.  In  1665,  the  plague  drove  him  from  Cam- 
bridge ;  and  it  w  as  while  spending  a  period  of  retirement  at 
Woolsthorpe,  that  the  first  ideas  occurred  to  him  of  that  won- 
derful lav,'  of  gravitation  which  finally  resulted  in  that  system 
of  the  universe  developed  in  his  Principia.  In  1668  he  re- 
turned to  Cambridge,  and  constructed  the  first  reflecting  tele- 
scope, the  first  practical  result  of  his  great  discovery  in  optics. 
He  was  elected  professor  of  mathematics,  and  in  1671  a  member 
of  the  Royal  Society.  The  publication  of  his  new  theory  of 
light,  (1672,)  involved  him  in  numerous  discussions  with  the  many 
professoi-s,  who,  both  in  England  and  on  the  Continent,  obstinate- 
ly adhered  to  the  old  system. 

NcAvton's  attention  was,  as  we  have  seen,  early  directed  to 
the  subject  of  gravitation.  From  various  subjects  he  postponed 
the  theory,  which  was  already  struggling  in  his  mind,  for  nearly 
sixteen  years,  when  a  conversation  concerning  the  measurement 
of  a  degree  on  the  meridinn  induced  him  to  resume  the  consi- 
deration of  it.  The  result  was,  the  discovery  of  the  law  of  uni- 
versal gravitation,  which  connects  into  one  great  family  every 
orb  that  rolls  through  the  immensity  of  space,  and  by  means 
of  which  the  quantity  of  matter,  the  specific  gravity,  the  rela- 
tive weight,  and  the  form  of  the  sun  and  planets  can  be  accu- 
rately ascertained. 

Newton  took  a  conspicuous  part,  with  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge, in  opposing  the  command  of  James  II.,  that  Father 
Francis,  an  ignorant  monk  of  the  Benedictine  order,  should  be 
admitted  to  the  rank  and  privilege  of  Master  of  Arts.  The 
university  triumphed,  and,  in  1688,  Newton  appeared  as  its 
representative  in  parliament.  About  the  time  of  his  return,  he 
published  his  "Letter  on  the  Existence  of  a  Deity,"  which 
manifests  his  earnest  piety.  At  an  early  age,  Newton's  mind 
had  been  directed  to  the  truths  of  the  gospel ;  the  Bible  he  re- 
garded as  a  sacred  book ;  and  his  researches  into  the  truths  of 
nature  impressed  more  deeply  upon  his  mind  the  harmony  and 


SIR   ISAAC   NEWTON.  455 

proofs  of  benevolence  which  pervade  God's  worKs.  His  unaf- 
fected piety  was  mistaken  by  the  pedantic  philosophers  of  that 
age  for  evidence  of  infirmity;  and  the  idle  tale  was  circulated 
that  the  author  of  the  Principia  had,  in  his  old  age,  become 
childish.  To  refute  such  an  idea,  we  need  only  refer  to  the 
events  of  his  subsequent  life.  In  1694,  he  became  Warden  of 
the  Mint,  an  office  requiring  great  mental  application ;  yet 
within  two  years  after  his  appointment,  the  entire  money  of  the 
realm  was  renewed,  and  four  years  after  that  event,  he  was  pro- 
moted to  the  Mastership  of  the  Mint,  an  office  worth  twelve  or 
fifteen  hundred  pounds  a  year.  At  Paris  he  was  elected  mem- 
ber of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Sciences  ;  in  1701  he  was  sent 
a  second  time  to  parliament,  and  in  1705,  Queen  Anne  con- 
ferred oil  him  the  lionour  of  knighthood.  Meanwhile  he  pub- 
lished his  expositions  of  the  book  of  Revelation,  and  amused 
his  leisure  hours  in  composing  a  system  of  Chronology,  based 
on  a  well  known  point  in  ancient  history — the  Argonautic  ex- 
pedition. By  computations  on  the  astronomical  observations  in 
Hipparchus,  he  placed  that  event  fifty-four  years  after  the  death 
of  Solomon,  fixing  by  the  same  method  several  other  points  as 
concurrent  checks.  The  third  edition  of  his  Principia,  with 
numerous  improvements,  appeared  in  1726.  In  the  following 
year,  (February  28,)  he  presided  at  a  meeting  of  the  Royal 
Society.  He  was  then  in  his  eighty-fifth  year,  and  the  fatigue, 
together  with  a  painful  disease  to  which  he  was  subject,  soon 
convinced  him  that  he  had  acted  imprudently.  His  disorder  re- 
turned, occasionally  in  such  acute  paroxysms  that  large  drops 
of  sweat  ran  down  his  face.  He  bore  all  with  gentleness,  and 
at  intervals  of  ease,  conversed  cheerfully  with  those  around 
him.  He  expired  on  the  20th  of  March.  His  funeral  was 
attended  by  the  most  learned  and  wealthy  in  the  land,  and  a 
costly  monument  was  raised  to  his  memory  in  Jerusalem  church. 
The  private  life  of  Ne^vton  was  worthy  of  his  genius.  A 
large  portion  of  his  income  was  spent  in  silent  acts  of  charity. 
He  was  ever  ready  to  aid  learning,  or  encourage  discoveries,  b} 
the  most  liberal  aid ;  and  to  all  his  relatives,  even  the  mi  st  dis- 
tant, connected  with  him  by  blood,  he  proved  a  generous  bene- 
factor, presenting  them  witli  hundreds  of  pounds  at  a  time. 
He  cherished  the  great  principles  of  religious  toleration  at  a 
period  when  they  were  little  understood,  and  boldly  expressed 


45C  LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

his  abhorrence  of  every  form  of  persecution.  The  modest  sim- 
plicity of  his  mind  was  rarely  equalled,  and  never  surpassed. 
This  was  not  the  result  of  affectation,  but  of  that  purity  and 
nobleness  of  soul,  which,  though  ever  struggling  into  new  light, 
feels  that  its  struggle  is  ever  but  beginning.  Looking  far  be- 
yond other  men  into  the  secrets  of  the  universe,  the  enlarged 
view  only  convinced  him  of  the  boundless  depths  still  to  be  ex- 
plored. He  knew  well  the  worth  of  what  he  had  accomplished, 
and  when  circumstances  compelled  him,  could  assert  the  just 
value  of  his  discoveries  ;  yet  a  little  before  his  death,  he  used 
the  following  memorable  language  :  "I  do  not  know  what  I  may 
appear  to  the  world,  but  to  myself  I  seem  to  have  been  only  like 
a  boy,  playing  on  the  sea-shore,  and  diverting  myselT  in  now  and 
then  finding  a  smoother  pebble  or  a  prettier  shell  than  ordinary, 
while  the  great  ocean  of  truth  lay  all  undiscovered  before  me." 
Who,  in  considering  this  truly  great  man,  either  as  a  citizen,  a 
philosopher,  or  a  Christian,  will  not  wish  to  be  like  him,  to  imi- 
tate his  virtues,  and  to  fulfil,  as  he  did,  the  great  object  of  his 
being ! 


MATTHEW   HENRY. 


467 


MATTHEW    HENRY. 


ATTHEW  HENRY,  the  great  commentator, 
was  the  sou  of  Philip  Henrj,  a  pious  and 
learned  non-conformist  minister,  and  was  born 
in  1662.  He  continued  under  his  father's  care 
till  he  was  eighteen  years  of  age ;  in  which  time 
he  became  well  skilled  in  the  learned  languages, 
especially  in  the  Hebrew,  which  his  father  had 
rendered  familiar  to  him  from  his  childhood ; 
ind  from  first  to  last  the  study  of  the  Scriptures, 
'as  his  most  delightful  employment.  He  com- 
pleted his  education  in  Mr.  Doolittle's  academy  at 
Islington,  and  was  afterwards  entered  in  Gray's  Inn 
fur  the  study  of  the  law.  But  at  length,  resolving 
®  to  devote  his  life  to  divinity,  in  1686,  he  retired  into 
the  country,  and  was  chosen  pastor  of  a  congregation 
at  Chester,  where  he  lived  about  twenty-five  years, 
greatly  esteemed  and  beloved  by  his  people.  He  had  several 
calls  to  London,  which  he  constantly  declined;  but  was  at  last 
prevailed  upon  to  accept  an  unanimous  invitation  from  a  congre- 
gation at  Hackney.  He  died  on  the  22d  of  June,  1714,  of 
apoplexy,  while  he  was  travelling  from  Chester  to  London  ; 
and  was  interred  at  Trinity  church  in  Chester.  He  wrote, 
I  Expositions  of  the  Bible,  in  5  vols,  folio.  2.  The  Life  of  Mr. 
Philip  Henry.  3.  Directions  for  Daily  Communion  with  God. 
4.  A  Method  for  Prayer.  5.  Four  Discourses  against  Vice  and 
Immorality.  6.  The  Communicant's  Companion.  7.  Family 
Hymns.  8.  A  Scriptural  Catechism.  And,  9.  A  Discourse 
concerning  the  Nature  of  Schism.  Mr.  Henry  is  best  known 
ia  this  country  by  his  Exposition  of  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ment, of  which  the  moderate  Christian  spirit  and  mild  tone  are 
highly  appreciated  by  various  denominations  of  Christians.  It 
is  one  of  the  most  popular  commentaries  on  the  Scriptures 
which  has  ever  been  published. 

68  2Q 


159  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


HENRY   SCOUGAL. 

^If  ENRY  SCOUGAL,  M.  A.,  second  son  of  Pa 
"'  trick  Scougal,  Bishop  of  Aberdeen,  was  born 
June,  1650,  at  Salton,  where  his  father,  the 
immediate  predecessor  of  Bishop  Burnet,  was 
rector.  His  father,  designing  him  for  the 
ministry,  watched  over  his  infant  mind  with 
peculiar  care.  He  had  soon  the  satisfaction 
of  perceiving  in  him  the  most  amiable  disposi- 
tions, and  his  understanding  rising  at  once  into 
the  vigour  of  manhood.  At  an  early  period,  he 
directed  his  thoughts  to  sacred  literature.  He 
perused  the  historical  parts  of  the  Bible  with  pe- 
culiar pleasure,  and  examined  its  contents  with  the 
eye  of  a  philosopher.  The  nature  and  evidences 
of  the  Christian  religion  also  occupied  his  mind.  Nor 
was  he  inattentive  to  polite  literature.  He  read  the 
Roman  classics,  and  made  considerable  proficiency  in  the  Grreek, 
Hebrew,  and  other  oriental  languages.  He  was  also  well  versed 
in  history  and  mathematics.  His  diversions  were  of  a  manly  kind, 
fn  concert  with  some  of  his  companions,  he  formed  a  little  se- 
nate, where  orations  of  their  own  composition  were  delivered. 
At  the  age  of  fifteen,  he  entered  the  university,  where  he  be- 
haved witli  great  modesty,  sobriety,  and  diligence.  He  disliked 
the  philosophy  then  taught,  and  applied  himself  to  the  study 
of  natural  philosophy.  'When  he  was  yet  about  eighteen  yearF 
of  age,  he  wrote  the  reflections  and  short  essays  since  published. 
In  all  the  public  meetings  of  the  students,  he  was  chosen  presi- 
dent, and  had  a  singular  deference  paid  to  his  judgment.  On 
finishing  his  courses,  he  was  appointed  professor  of  philosophy 
in  the  University  of  Aberdeen,  where  he  conscientiously  per- 
formed his  duty  in  training  up  the  youth  under  his  care  in  such 
principles  of  learning  and  virtue  as  might  render  them  orna- 


HENRY   SCOUGAL.  459 

merits  to  church  and  state.  He  maintained  his  authority  among 
the  students  in  such  a  way  as  to  keep  them  in  awe,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  gain  their  love  and  esteem.  He  allotted  a  con- 
siderable part  of  his  inqome  for  the  poor,  and  many  indigent 
families  were  relieved  in  their  straits  by  his  bounty,  though  so 
secretly  that  they  knew  not  whence  their  supply  came.  In  four 
years  he  was,  at  the  age  of  twenty-three,  ordained  a  minister, 
and  settled  at  Auchterless,  twenty  miles  from  Aberdeen,  where 
his  zeal  and  ability  were  eminently  displayed.  In  the  twenty- 
fifth  year  of  his  age,  he  was  admitted  Professor  of  Divinity  in 
the  King's  College,  Aberdeen.  The  inward  dispositions  of  this 
excellent  man  are  best  seen  in  his  writings,  and  the  whole  of 
his  outward  behaviour  and  conversation  was  the  constant  prac- 
tice of  what  he  preached.  He  died  of  consumption  on  the 
20th  June,  1678,  in  the  twenty-eighth  year  of  his  age,  and  was 
buried  in  the  King's  College  Church  in  Old  Aberdeen.  The 
principal  work  of  Scougal  is  a  small  treatise  entitled,  '« The 
Life  of  God  in  the  Soul  of  Man."  This  book  is  not  only  valua- 
ble for  the  sublime  spirit  of  piety  which  it  breathes,  but  for  the 
purity  and  elegance  of  its  style — qualities  for  which  few  Scot- 
tish writers  were  distinguished  before  the  RevolutioD- 


460 


LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JAMES   SAURIN. 


AMES  SAURIN,  the  celebrated  preacher,  waa 

the  son  of  a  Protestant  lawyer  of  eminence, 
and  born  at  Nismes  in  1677.  He  applied  to 
his  studies  with  great  success ;  but  at  length 
being  captivated  with  a  military  life,  he  re- 
linquished them  for  the  profession  of  arms. 
'•,^' ,  In  1694,  he  made  a  campaign  as  a  cadet  in 
Lord  Galloway's  company,  and  soon  afterwards 
obtained  a  pair  of  colours  in  the  regiment  of  Col. 
Renault  which  served  in  Piedmont.  But  the  Duke 
of  Savoy  having  made  peace  with  France,  he  re 
turned  to  Geneva,  and  resumed  the  study  of  philoso- 
phy and  theology,  under  Turretin  and  other  professors. 
In  1700,  he  visited  Holland,  then  came  to  England, 
where  he  remained  for  several  years,  and  married.  In 
1705,  he  returned  to  the  Hague,  where  he  fixed  his  resi- 
dence, and  preached  with  the  most  unbounded  applause.  To  an 
exterior  appearance  highly  prepossessing,  he  added  a  strong 
harmonious  voice.  The  sublime  prayer  which  he  recited  before 
his  sermon  was  uttered  in  a  manner  highly  affecting.  Nor  was 
the  attention  excited  by  the  prayer  dissipated  by  the  sermon : 
all  who  heard  it  were  charmed;  and  those  who  came  with  an 
intention  to  criticise,  were  carried  along  with  the  preacher  and 
forgot  their  design.  His  sermons,  especially  those  published 
during  his  life,  are  distinguished  for  justness  of  thought,  force 
of  reasoning,  and  an  eloquent,  unaffected  style.  Saurin  died  on 
the  20th  Dec.  1730,  aged  53.  • 

He  wrote,  1.  Sermons,  in  12  vols.  8vo  and  l2mo ;  some  of 
which  display  great  genius.  Saurin  was  a  lover  of  toleration, 
which  gave  great  off'ence  to  some  of  his  fanatical  brethren,  who 
found  fault  with  him  because  he  did  not  call  the  pope  Antichrist, 
and  the  Romish  church  the  whore  of  Babylon.  But  these  pro- 
phetic metaphors,  however  applicable  they  may  be,  were  certainly 


JAMES   SAURIES.  461 

iiot  intended  by  Jesus  to  be  bandied  about  as  terms  of  reproach ; 
to  irritate,  without  convincing,  those  to  whom  they  were  applied. 
Saurin  therefore,  while  he  perhaps  interpreted  these  metaphors 
in  the  same  way  with  his  brethren,  discovered  more  of  the 
moderation  of  the  Christian  spirit. 

2.  ''  Discourses  Historical,  Critical,  and  Moral,  on  the  most 
memorable  Events  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament."  This  is 
his  greatest  and  most  valuable  work.  It  was  printed  first  in 
2  vols.  fol.  Beausobre  and  Roques  undertook  a  continuation 
of  it,  and  increased  it  to  4  vols.  It  is  full  of  learning :  it  is  a 
collection  of  the  opinions  of  the  most  esteemed  authors,  both 
Christian  and  heathen;  of  the  philosophers,  historians,  and 
critics,  on  every  subject  which  the  author  examines. 

3.  "  The  State  of  Christianity  in  France,"  1725,  8vo. 

4.  "  An  Abridgment  of  Christian  Theology  and  Morality,  in 
the  form  of  a  Catechism,"  1722,  8vo.  He  afterwards  published 
an  abridgment  of  this  work. 

5.  His  "  Dissertation  on  the  Expediency  of  sometimes  dis- 
guising the  Truth,"  raised  a  multitude  of  enemies  against  him. 
In  this  discourse  his  plan  was,  to  state  the  arguments  of  those 
who  affirm  that,  in  certain  cases,  it  is  lawful  to  disguise  truth, 
and  the  answers  of  those  who  maintained  'the  contrary.  He 
does  not  determine  the  question,  but  seems,  however,  to  incline 
to  the  first  opinion.  He  was  immediately  attacked  by  several 
adversaries,  and  a  long  controversy  ensued;  but  his  doctrines 
and  opinions  were  at  length  publicly  approved  of  by  the  synods 
of  Campen  and  of  the  Hague. 


462  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JONAS   HANWAY, 

DISTINGUISHED    merchant,    traveller, 
and  philanthropist,  was  born  at  Portsmouth, 
in  Hampshire,  on  the  12th  of  August,  1712, 
At  the  age  of  seventeen,  he  Avas  bound  ap- 
prentice to  a  merchant  at  Lisbon,  and,  at  the 
expiration  of  his  apprenticeship,  returned  to 
"jondon,  and  pursued    his  commercial  profes- 
3n,   without  any  remarkable   event  occurring 
his  life,  until  1743.     In  the  February  of  this 
",  he  entered  into  partnership  with  Mr.  Ding- 
L  Russian  merchant,   and   arrived,  in   the  fol- 
June,  at  St.  Petersburgh.     Here  he  first  be- 
came acquainted  with  the   Caspian  trade,  then  in  its 
nfancy,'  and,  having  an  ardent  desire  to  visit  Persia, 
}  made  an  offer  to  the  Russian  factors  to  proceed  to 
that  country  in  the  capacity  of  their  agent,  which  he  was 
accordingly  appointed,  and  set  out  in  September. 

With  his  suite,  consisting  of  an  interpreter,  a  clerk,  a  Rus- 
sian servant,  a  Tartar  boy,  and  a  guard,  and  having  under 
his  care  twenty  carriage-loads  of  English  cloth,  he  arrived  at 
Moscow  in  ten  days,  whence,  on  the  24th,  he  proceeded  to  Za- 
ritzen,  on  the  banks  of  the  Volga,  and,  along  that  river,  con- 
tinued his  journey  to  Astrachan  and  Yerkie.  Having  now  ar- 
rived at  the  Caspian,  he  embarked,  on  the  22d  of  November, 
and  traversing  the  whole  length  of  the  sea  from  north  to  south, 
made  a  short  stay  at  Langarood,  and  then  made  for  Astrabad, 
which  he  reached  on  the  18th  of  December.  After  the  inha- 
bitants had  shown  some  apprehension  at  holding  communication 
with  a  vessel  which  they  at  first  supposed  to  be  that  of  a  pirate, 
Mr.  Hanway  was  allowed  to  land,  and,  while  on  shore,  witnessed 
the  woods  of  the  neighbouring  mountains  on  fire,  the  heat  of 
which  was  so  excessive  that  it  is  described  by  Mr.  Pugh,  the 


JONAS   HANWAY.  463 

biographer  of  Hanway,  as  "  causing  the  butter  on  board  the 
ship  to  run  like  oil."  On  his  arrival  at  xlstrabad,  he  was  pre- 
sented to  the  governor,  who  received  him  in  great  state,  and 
told  him,  in  the  eastern  style  of  compliment,  "  that  the  city  of 
Astrabad  was  now  his  to  do  what  he  pleased  with."  Having 
obtained  the  promise  of  an  escort  to  Meshed,  he  had  already 
sent  part  of  his  goods  forward,  and  was  preparing  to  set  out 
himself  for  that  city,  when,  to  his  great  mortification,  the  go- 
vernor told  him  he  could  spare  but  one  soldier  to  accompany 
him.  This  reply  was  succeeded  by  the  arrival  of  intelligence 
still  more  distressing,  and  rendering  the  situation  of  Hanway 
extremely  perilous.  The  town  of  Astrabad  had  been  suddenly 
besieged  by  a  party  of  rebels,  and  their  leader  declaring  that 
he  intended  to  seize  the  shah's  treasures  and  the  European 
goods,  the  terrified  inhabitants  ''cursed  Mr.  Hanway  as  the 
cause  of  their  misfortune,  by  bringing  so  valuable  a  caravan 
into  the  city  to  attract  the  avarice  of  the  rebels."  In  this 
dilemma,  he  prudently  declined  following  the  advice  of  his  at- 
tendants to  escape  in  a  disguise  from  the  city,  but  retired  to 
his  apartment,  and  entered  in  his  journal  a  prayer,  which 
proves  at  once  the  elevated  and  resigned  state  of  his  mind  amid 
the  dangers  which  threatened  him.  "  If,  my  God,"  runs  one 
of  the  passages,  -^  it  is  Thy  will  I  now  render  back  this  vital 
heat  which  sprang  from  Thee ;  if  Thy  gracious  providence  has 
ordained  that  my  life  be  now  brought  to  an  end  by  these  un- 
thinking men,  Thy  will  be  done.  Avert,  0  Lord,  the  destruc- 
tion that  menaces  them,  and  lay  not  my  blood  to  their  charge !" 
On  the  following  morning,  he  was  awoke  by  the  noise  of 
musketry,  and  was  informed  that  the  city  had  been  taken.  He 
was,  shortly  afterwards,  visited  by  the  captors,  who  declared 
they  did  not  mean  to  hurt  his  person ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  as 
Boon  as  ever  their  government  was  established,  they  would  pay 
for  the  goods  which  they  then  seized,  and  informed  him  that 
the  forty  bales  he  had  sent  out  laden  on  the  camels  were  al- 
ready in  their  possession.  His  money  was  now  demanded, 
when,  he  observes,  '^  as  gold  can  purchase  every  thing  except 
virtue  and  health,  understanding  and  beauty,  I  reserved  a  purse 
of  a  hundred  and  sixty  crowns,  thinking  it  might  administer  to 
my  safety."  After  experiencing  much  insult  and  cruelty  from 
*.he  rebels,  he  resolved  to  leave  Astrabad,  and  proceed  to  Glii 


404  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

Ian  to  seek  protection  of  the  shah,  who  was  reported  to  be  en- 
camped  near  that  city.  He  had  travelled  on  his  way  some  dis 
tance  beyond  the  ruins  of  the  palace  of  Farabad,  once  famous 
for  the  residence  of  the  Persian  kings,  when  the  carriers,  who 
had  engaged  to  accompany  him  to  Balfrush,  the  capital  of  Me- 
sanderan,  refused  to  continue  their  journey,  alleging  that  he 
was  near  the  coast,  and  might  go  by  sea.  "Accordingly,"  says 
Mr.  Pugh,  "they  conducted  him  and  his  attendants  to  a  fisher- 
man's hut  on  the  sea-coast.  The  poor  man  had  only  an  open 
boat,  like  a  canoe,  very  leaky,  and  too  small  for  six  persons ; 
besides,  it  could  be  navigated  only  with  oars  or  paddles  near  the 
shore,  where  the  surf  then  ran  very  high,  and  the  sand  banks, 
forming  breakers,  made  the  sea  still  more  dangerous.  He, 
therefore,  again  implored  the  carriers  to  furnish  horses  accord- 
ing to  their  engagement ;  but  they  treated  his  request  with  con- 
tempt. He  threatened  to  use  force,  whereupon  two  of  them, 
being  armed  with  match-locks,  lighted  their  matches  ;  two  others 
had  bows  and  arrows,  and  all  of  them,  being  six  in  number, 
had  sabres.  Mr.  Hanway  collected  his  company,  among  whom 
were  four  muskets,  a  blunderbus,  and  a  pair  of  pistols ;  but,  as 
he  could  not  depend  upon  more  than  two  of  his  servants,  after 
a  short  parley,  he  submitted  to  run  the  risk  of  being  drowned, 
rather  than  engage  in  a  fray." 

Embarking,  therefore,  in  the  canoe,  he  arrived  safe  at  Tes- 
chidezar,  where  he  was  furnished  with  a  horse  and  mules,  and 
on  reaching  Balfrush,  was  assured  by  the  Persian  merchants 
that  the  shah  would  make  good  his  loss.  "It  was  this  escape," 
says  Mr.  Pugh,  "  which  gave  Mr.  Hanway  the  idea  of  the 
motto  he  subsequently  adopted,  '  Never  despair.'  "  The  ap- 
proach of  the  rebels  to  Balfrush  was  a  new  source  of  danger  to 
him,  and,  sooner  than  again  fall  into  their  hands,  he  deter- 
mined to  make  his  way  out  of  the  city  alone,  from  which  he 
escaped  just  in  time,  as  the  Tartars  were  entering  at  one  gate 
while  he  was  departing  through  another.  After  proceeding 
some  distance,  he  fell  in  with  a  party  who  were  conducting  the 
baggage  of  a  Persian  chief;  but  the  miserable  horse  on  which 
he  was  mounted  now  sank  to  the  ground  with  himself  and  his 
faithful  Tartar  boy,  who  had  refused  to  be  left  behind  at  Bal- 
frush. In  this  situation,  without  guide,  and  understanding  but 
little  of  the  language  of  the  country,  he  made  his  way  to  the 


JONAS    HANWAY.  465 

coast,  passing  In  his  way  several  rivers,  over  which  he  was  car- 
ried gratis,  on  his  plea  of  poverty,  not  daring  to  show  the 
money  he  had  concealed  at  Astrabad.  He  at  length  came  up 
with  the  party  of  the  Persiiin  chief  before  mentioned,  whom  he 
calls  •«  the  admiral,"  and  in  whose  train  he  found  his  clerk  and 
servant.  In  the  night,  however,  the  admiral  secretly  departed, 
leaving  Mr.  Hanway  without  protection  or  provision — a  base- 
ness which  so  exasperated  him,  that,  though  the  night  was  dark 
and  tempestuous,  he  immediately  followed  him,  and,  overtaking 
him,  seized  the  bridle  of  the  horse  on  which  the  admiral  was 
mounted,  and  pronounced  the  word  "  Shah"  with  the  utmost 
emphasis.  This  had  the  desired  effect ;  the  admiral  com- 
manded his  vizier  to  take  up  Mr.  Hanway  behind  him,  and  in 
this  way  he  continued  to  travel  to  the  shore  of  the  Caspian,  the 
surge  of  which  threw  down  several  of  the  horses  of  the  party, 
and  endangered  the  lives  of  their  riders.  He  at  length  arrived 
at  Langarood,  where  he  was  most  hospitably  received  by  Cap- 
tain Elton,  after  a  journey  of  twenty-three  days,  during  which 
he  had  once  been  without  food  for  forty  hours,  and  had  not  en- 
joyed one  hour  of  security  or  unbroken  sleep. 

Having  rested  a  few  days  and  recruited  his  strength  and  spi- 
rits, he  proceeded  through  Reshed  to  Casbin,  where  he  arrived 
on  the  2d  of  March,  1744,  and  remained  until  the  melting  of 
the  snow,  by  the  reflection  of  which  he  had  been  almost  blinded 
during  his  journey.  He  at  length  reached  the  camp  of  the 
shah,  from  whom  he  obtained  a  decree,  ''  that  the  particulars  of 
his  loss  should  be  delivered  to  Behbud  Khan,  the  shah's  gene- 
ral, now  at  Astrabad,  who  was  to  return  such  parts  of  the 
goods  as  could  be  recovered,  and  make  up  the  deficiency  out  of 
the  sequestered  estates  of  the  rebels."  On  his  way  back  to 
Astrabad,  Hanway  passed  a  month  with  Captain  Elton,  at 
Langarood,  and  set  out  for  the  former  place  on  the  1st  of  May. 
In  his  way  thither,  he  encountered  many  dangers,  being  fre- 
quently deserted  by  his  guides  and  guards,  and,  on  one  occasion, 
having  lost  his  path  at  night  in  a  forest,  he,  on  the  refusal  of 
the  owner  of  a  lonely  house  to  admit  him,  broke  open  the  door, 
and,  tying  a  rope  round  his  arms,  compelled  the  man  to  conduct 
himself  and  his  companions  into  their  proper  track.  On  his 
arrival  at  Astrabad,  he  presented  the  shah's  order  to  the  gover- 
nor, who  promised  that  it  should  be  complied  with  to  the  letter. 
69 


466  LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

He  was,  however,  unable  to  procure  the  whole  of  the  money 
I'ue  for  his  lost  merchandise,  and,  after  refusing  to  accept  a 
number  of  female  captives  in  part  payment,  he  set  out  on  his 
return  to  Russia,  and  arrived  at  Moscow  on  the  22d  of  Decem- 
ber. He  did  not  reach  this  city  without  having  experienced 
many  dangers  and  delays  ;  among  the  latter  was  his  detention 
at  Yerkie,  where  he  had  to  undergo  a  quarantine  of  six  weeks, 
at  the  end  of  which  he  was  not  permitted  to  depart  until  he  had 
been  stripped  naked  in  the  open  air,  and  received  on  his  body 
the  contents  of  a  pail  of  warm  water.  Letters  reached  him  at 
Moscow,  informing  him  of  his  accession  to  a  large  sum  of  mo- 
ney, in  consequence  of  the  death  of  a  relation,  an  event  upon 
whicli  he  observed,  "  Providence  was  thus  indulgent  to  me,  as 
if  it  meant  to  reward  the  sincerity  of  my  endeavours."  On 
the  1st  of  January,  1745,  he  arrived  at  Petersburgh,  where  he 
engaged  in  commerce  for  about  five  years,  at  the  expiration 
of  which  he  returned  to  England,  and,  abandoning  mercantile 
pursuits,  employed  himself  in  compiling  the  history  of  his  tra- 
vels, and  in  a  series  of  the  most  liberal  and  benevolent  acts. 

In  January,  1753,  he  published  his  travels,  in  four  quarto 
volumes,  under  the  title  of  "An  Historical  Account  of  the  Cas- 
pian Trade  over  the  Caspian  Sea,  with  a  Journal  of  Travels 
from  London,  through  Russia  into  Persia,  &c.,  to  which  are 
added  the  Revolutions  of  Persia  during  the  present  Century, 
with  the  particular  History  of  the  Great  Usurper,  Nadir 
Kouli."  The  work  was  most  favourably  received  ;  but,  shortly 
after  its  publication,  the  labour  he  had  bestowed  on  it  made 
such  an  inroad  upon  his  health  as  to  render  it  necessary  for  him 
to  seek  its  renewal  on  the  Continent.  On  his  return  home, 
towards  the  latter  end  of  the  last-mentioned  year,  the  question 
respecting  the  expediency  of  naturalizing  the  Jews  was  a  sub- 
ject of  much  discussion,  when  "Hanway,"  says  Mr.  St.  John, 
<'on  most  other  occasions  just  and  philanthropic,  yielded,  in 
tliis  instance,  to  the  force  of  narrow  and  inhuman  prejudices, 
and  argued  in  a  pamphlet,  now  very  properly  condemned  to 
oblivion,  in  favour  of  the  absurd  laws  by  which  this  portion  of 
our  fellow-creatures  have  been  in  so  many  countries  excluded 
from  the  enjoyment  of  the  rights  of  man."  Mr.  Pugh,  how- 
ever, says  that  it  was  the  spirited  opposition  of  Mr.  Hanway  to 
the  naturalization  of  the  Jews  that  laid   the  foundation  of  his 


JONAS   HANWAY.  467 

celebrity,  as  a  public  man,  and  goes  so  far  as  to  assert  that  his 
writings  on  the  subject  were  probably  the  principal  means  of 
causing  the  repeal  of  the  act.  In  1754,  he  endeavoured  to  call 
the  attention  of  government  to  the  bad  state  of  the  streets  in 
London  and  Westminster,  by  a  letter  which  he  published  on 
the  subject  to  Mr.  Spranger,  on  his  excellent  Proposals  for  Pav- 
ing, Cleansing,  and  Lighting  the  Streets  of  Westminster,  &c. 
In  the  spring  of  the  following  year,  appeared  his  <' Thoughts  on 
Invasion,"  a  publication  which,  in  some  measure,  tended  to  quiet 
the  minds  of  the  people  as  to  the  probability  of  that  event 
taking  place  on  the  part  of  the  French. 

In  1756,  he  commenced  those  measures  which  finally  led  to 
the  establishment  of  the  Marine  Society — "  an  institution," 
says  Mr.  Pugh,  <'  not  to  be  equalled  for  substantial  utility  and 
real  national  advantage  by  any  undertaking  in  any  age  or 
country."  The  object  of  the  establishment  was  to  fit  out  lands- 
men volunteers  and  boys  to  serve  on  board  the  king's  ships, 
which  men  and  boys  consisted,  for  the  most  part,  of  such  wan- 
derers, beggars,  or  prisoners  for  petty  ofiences,  as  chose  to  put 
themselves  under  the  instructions  of  the  society.  "  We  found," 
says  Mr.  Hanway,  in  his  address  to  the  public  in  favour  of  the 
design,  "  a  great  number  of  young  fellows  in  danger  of  becom- 
ing a  prey  to  vice  through  idleness,  who,  as  soon  as  the  garb  of 
Beamen  was  presented  to  them  gratis,  gladly  entered  into  its 
service  ;  and  a  number  of  boys,  loitering  in  filth  and  rags,  and, 
as  the  forlorn  hope  of  human  nature,  ready  for  any  enterprise, 
and  we  considered  that  the  preservation  of  such  persons,  and 
rendering  them  useful,  promoted  the  great  end  of  government 
and  true  policy  in  a  double  view."  The  society  met  with  gene- 
ral encouragement;  the  king's  donation  was  £1000,  and,  in 
1757,  a  silver  anchor  was  voted  to  Mr.  Hanway,  for  proposing, 
methodizing,  and  carrying  the  design  into  execution  ;  but  it  was 
not  until  1772  that  an  act  passed  to  make  the  governors  of  the 
Marine  Society  a  body  corporate.  In  the  former  year,  he  pub- 
lished his  "Journey  from  Portsmouth  to  Kingston,"  in  which,  says 
Mr.  St.  John,  "  he  benevolently,  but  ridiculously,  endeavoured 
to  discourage  the  habit  of  tea-drinking,"  an  attempt  that  called 
forth  a  virulent  and  anonymous  reply  from  Dr.  Johnson,  in 
•'  The  Literary  Magazine."  In  1758,  and  the  following  year, 
Mr.  Hanway  made  strenuous  exertions  to  improve  the  *'  Found- 


468  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

ling,"  and  to  establish  tke  Magdalen  Hospital,  for  the  recep- 
tion of  penitent  prostitutes,  of  which  he  is  considered  the 
founder.  The  women  who  had  reaped  the  benefit  of  this  insti- 
tution, he  took  great  delight  in  entertaining  at  his  own  house, 
where  he  gave  them  his  best  advice,  generally  accompanied, 
sajs  Mr.  Pugh,  with  a  small  present.  The  small  works  which 
he  wrote  in  support  of  the  above  institutions  were  succeeded 
by  one  entitled,  "  Reasons  for  an  Additional  Number  of  Twelve 
Thousand  Seamen  to  be  employed  in  time  of  Peace  in  the  Mer- 
chants' Service,"  and  another,  advocating  the  cause  of  the 
orphan  poor,  called  "  Serious  Considerations  on  the  Salutary 
Designs  of  the  Act  for  a  Regular  Uniform  Register  of  the 
Parish  Poor," 

In  1762,  Mr.  Hanway  published  Eight  Letters  to  the  Duke 

of  ,  supposed  to  be  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  in  which  he 

ridicules  the  practice  of  giving  vails,  or  visiting-fees,  to  ser- 
vants, a  custom  which,  at  that  time,  had  arrived  at  a  very  ex- 
travagant pitch.  He  was  recommended  to  take  up  the  subject 
by  Sir  Thomas  Waldo,  who,  at  the  same  time,  communicated  to 
Mr.  Hanway  an  anecdote  illustrative  of  the  excess  to  which 
the  practice  was  carried.  On  leaving  the  house  of  the  duke 
alluded  to.  Sir  Thomas,  after  having  feed  a  train  of  other 
servants,  put  a  crown  into  the  hands  of  the  cook,  who  returned 
it,  saying,  "  Sir,  I  do  not  take  silver."  "  Don't  you,  indeed?" 
said  the  baronet,  putting  it  in  his  pocket ;  "  then  I  do  not  give 
gold."  Mr.  Hanway  also  himself  relates  a  somewhat  similar 
circumstance.  He  was  paying  the  servants  of  a  friend  for 
a  dinner,  which  their  masters  had  invited  him  to,  one  by  one, 
as  they  appeared: — "  Sir,  your  great-coat."  <' A  shilling." — 
"Your  hat."  "A  shilling." — "Stick."  "A  shilling." — 
"Umbrella."  "A  shilling." — "Sir,  your  gloves."  "Why, 
friend,  you  may  keep  the  gloves  ;  they  are  not  worth  a  shil- 
ling." 

Such  was  the  universal  esteem  Mr.  Hanway  had  acquired  by 
his  benevolent  exertions,  that,  in  the  last-mentioned  year,  a 
deputation  of  five  citizens  of  London  waited  on  the  minister. 
Lord  Bute,  requesting  that  he  would  confer  some  appointment 
on  the  subject  of  our  memoir,  who  was  accordingly,  on  the  17th 
of  July,  made  one  of  the  commissioners  for  victualling  the  navy. 
He  shortly  afterwards  took  a  large  house  in  Red  Lion  Square, 


JONAS   HANWAY  469 

which  he  decorated  in  a  style  peculiar  to  himself,  with  paint- 
ings and  emblematical  devices,  in  order,  as  he  said,  to  furnish 
topics  of  discourse  to  his  countrymen  and  countrywomen,  who, 
he  used  to  observe,  were  by  no  means  au  fait  in  the  art  of  con- 
versation. In  1773,  he  pleaded  the  cause  of  another  class  of 
unfortunate  human  beings,  in  a  publication  called  ''  The  State 
of  the  Chimney  Sweepers'  Apprentices,"  for  whose  relief  he 
promoted  a  subscriptiDn,  under  the  direction  of  a  committee. 
He  continued  to  pursue  an  uninterrupted  course  of  benevolence 
antil  his  death,  which  took  place  on  the  5th  of  September, 
1786.  Three  years  previous  to  which,  ill  health  had  compelled 
him  to  resign  his  office  at  the  victualling  board.  His  last  mo- 
ments were  marked  by  singular  calmness  and  Christian  resig- 
nation, and,  anxious  to  the  last  for  the  welfare  of  his  fellow- 
creatures,  he  said  to  the  surgeon,  on  the  day  of  his  death,  "  If 
you  think  it  will  be  of  service  in  your  practice,  or  to  any  one 
who  may  come  after  me,  I  beg  you  will  have  my  body  opened. 
I  am  willing  to  do  as  much  good  as  is  possible." 

No  better  estimate,  perhaps,  of  the  character  of  Mr.  Han- 
way  can  be  formed  than  by  comparing  it  with  that  of  the  truly 
illustrious  Howard.  Like  the  latter,  inexhausted  in  striking 
out  resources  of  beneficence,  and  indefatigable  in  carrying 
them  into  execution,  the  former  dedicated  his  long  life  to  public 
works  of  mercy.  Numerous  and  successful,  however,  as  are 
those  we  have  already  recorded,  they  afford  but  an  imperfect 
idea  of  his  liberality  and  philanthropy.  He  was  too  unosten- 
tatious to  suffer  his  private  acts  of  charity  to  be  known ;  but 
the  necessity  for  his  accepting  a  retiring  pension  in  his  seventy- 
first  year,  furnishes  an  honourable  clue  to  an  estimate  of  the 
probable  extent  of  them ;  and  his  publications  in  the  cause  of 
religion  and  humanity,  to  the  number  of  nearly  seventy,  ren- 
der any  attempt  at  enlargement  upon  his  public  zeal  and  devo- 
tion unnecessary.  In  addition  to  the  share  he  had  in  the  for- 
mation of  the  institutions  already  mentioned,  the  foundation  of 
Sunday-schools  is  chiefly  attributable  to  his  writings. 

"  In  person,"  says  Mr.  Pugh,  "  Mr.  Han  way  was  of  the  mid- 
dle size ;  of  a  thin,  spare  habit,  but  well  shaped  ;  his  limbs 
were  fashioned  with  the  nicest  symmetry.  In  the  latter  years 
of  his  life,  he  stooped  very  much,  and,  when  he  walked,  found 
It  conduce  to  his  ease  to  let  his  head  incline  towards  one  side  ; 

2  R 


470  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

but,  when  he  first  went  to  Russia,  his  face  was  full  and  coinelj, 
and  his  person  altogether  such  as  obtained  for  him  the  appella- 
tion of  the  Handsome  Englishman."  He  was  never  married, 
having  been  captivated,  while  at  Lisbon,  by  the  charms  of  a 
lady  whom,  to  put  a  second-hand  idea  of  Mr.  Moore's  into 
prose,  he  thought  it  far  more  sweet  to  live  in  the  remembrance 
of  than  to  dwell  with  others.  Mr.  Pugh  relates  many  peculiari- 
ties in  Mr.  Han  way's  character.  He  was  fond  of  a  joke  him- 
self, and  of  the  convivialities  of  others,  to  a  certain  extent  ; 
but,  "  if  the  mirth  degenerated  into  a  boisterous  laughter,  he 
took  his  leave,  saying  afterwards,  *  My  companions  were  too 
merry  to  be  happy  or  to  let  me  be  happy,  so  I  left  them.'  " 
He  adhered  to  truth  with  an  almost  ascetic  strictness,  and  no 
brilliancy  of  thought  could  induce  him  to  vary  from  the  fact. 
Though  frank  and  open  in  his  dealings  with  all,  he  was  not 
easily  deceived  by  others,  and  seldom  placed  a  confidence  that 
was  betrayed.  He  did  not,  however,  think  the  world  so  dege- 
nerate as  is  commonly  imagined ;  "  and  if  I  did,"  he  used  to 
say,  "  I  would  not  let  it  appear  ;  for  nothing  can  tend  so  efi'ect- 
ually  to  make  a  man  wicked,  or  to  keep  him  so,  as  a  marked 
suspicion."  He  never  took  any  of  his  servants  from  the  recom- 
mendation of  his  friends  ;  but  commonly  advertised  for  them, 
appointing  their  applications  to  be  left  at  some  tavern.  One 
that  he  was  about  to  hire  having  expressed  some  surprise  at  hia 
being  desired  to  attend  family  prayers  every  evening,  Mr.  Han- 
way  asked  him  if  he  had  any  objection  to  say  his  prayers.  "  No, 
sir,"  replied  the  man,  "  I've  no  objection  ;  but  I  hope  you'll 
consider  it  in  my  wages."  At  another  time,  having  given  a 
little  chimney-sweeper  a  shilling,  and  promised  to  buy  him  a  fine 
tie-wig  to  wear  on  May-day,  "  Ah,  bless  your  honour  !"  replied 
the  sweep  ;  "  my  master  won't  let  me  go  out  on  May-day.' 
'*  No  !  why  not  ?"  "  He  says  it's  low  life."  Mr.  Hanway  pos- 
sessed some  eccentricity  of  dress  as  well  as  of  manner,  and  if 
said  to  have  been  the  first  who  appeared  in  the  streets  of  th< 
metropolis  with  an  umbrella.  About  two  years  after  his  death, 
a  monument  was  erected  to  his  memory,  by  public  subscription, 
in  Westminster  Abbey. 


SIR  WILLIAM   JONES 


471 


SIR  WILLIAM  JONES. 


ILLIAM  JONES,  the  son  of  an  eminent  ma- 
thematician, was  born  in  London,  in  the  year 
1746.  Losing  his  father,  when  only  three 
years  of  age,  he  was  left  to  the  entire  care 
of  his  mother,  a  woman  of  strong  mind  and 
good  sense,  and  from  whom  he  imbibed  an 
^  early  taste  for  literature.  In  1753,  he  was 
sent  to  Harrow  School,  where  he  soon  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  the  masters,  and  the 
admiration  of  his  associates,  by  his  extraordinary 
diligence  and  superior  talents.  Among  his  school- 
-  fellows  were  Dr.  Parr,  and  Bennett,  afterwards 
Bishop  of  Cloyne,  who,  in  speaking  of  young  Jones, 
^^f!^  at  the  age  of  eight  or  nine,  says,  he  Avas  even  then 
^fA^  u  an  uncommon  boy."  Describing  his  subsequent  pro- 
gress at  Harrow,  he  says,  "great  abilities,  great  parti- 
cularity of  thinking,  fondness  for  writing  verses  and  plays  of 
various  kinds,  and  a  degree  of  integrity  and  manly  courage, 
distinguished  him  even  at  that  period.  I  loved  him  and  re- 
vered him,  and,  though  one  or  two  years  older  than  he  was,  was 
always  instructed  by  him  from  my  earliest  age."  Such  was  his 
devotion  to  study,  that  he  used  to  pass  whole  nights  over  his 
books,  until  his  eyesight  became  aflfected ;  and  Dr.  Thackeray, 
the  master  of  Harrow,  said,  <'  so  active  was  the  mind  of  Jones, 
that  if  he  were  left,  naked  and  friendless,  on  Salisbury  Plain, 
he  would,  nevertheless,  find  the  road  to  fame  and  riches.' 

In  1764,  he  was  entered  at  University  College,  Oxford,  in 
opposition  to  the  wishes  of  his  friends,  who  advised  his  mother 
to  place  him  under  the  superintendence  of  some  special  pleader, 
as  at  that  early  ago  he  had  made  such  a  voluntary  progress  in 
legal  acquirements,  as  to  be  able  to  put  cases  from  an  abridg- 


472  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

ment  of  Coke's  Institutes.  At  the  university,  instead  of  con 
fining  himself  to  the  usual  discipline,  he  continued  the  course 
of  classical  reading  which  he  had  commenced  at  Harrow,  and 
devoted  a  considerable  portion  of  his  time  to  the  study  of  the 
oriental  languages.  During  his  vacations,  which  he  generally 
spent  in  London,  he  learned  riding  and  fencing ;  and  at  home 
he  occupied  himself  in  the  perusal  of  the  best  Italian,  Spanish, 
French,  and  Portuguese  authors.  In  1765,  he  became  private 
tutor  to  Lord  Althorpe,  the  son  of  Earl  Spencer ;  and  shortly 
afterwards  he  was  elected  Fellow  on  the  foundation  of  Sir  Simon 
Bennett. 

In  1767,  he  accompanied  the  Spencer  family  to  Germany ; 
and  whilst  at  Spa,  he  learned  dancing,  the  broad-sword  exercise, 
music,  besides  the  art  of  playing  on  the  Welsh  harp ;  "  thus," 
to  transcribe  an  observation  of  his  own,  "with  the  fortune  of  a 
peasant,  giving  himself  the  education  of  a  prince."  On  his 
return,  he  resided  with  his  pupil  at  Harrow,  and,  during  his 
abode  there,  he  translated  into  French  the  life  of  Nadir  Shah 
from  the  Persian,  at  the  request  of  the  King  of  Denmark. 
After  making  another  tour,  he  gave  up  his  tutorship,  and,  in 
September,  1770,  entered  himself  a  student  of  the  Temple,  for 
the  purpose  of  studying  for  the  bar.  He  took  this  step  in 
compliance  with  the  earnest  solicitations  of  his  friends.  "  Their 
advice,"  he  says,  in  a  letter  to  his  friend  Reviczki,  was  conform- 
able to  my  own  inclinations ;  for  the  only  road  to  the  highest 
stations  in  this  country  is  that  of  the  law ;  and  I  need  not  add 
how  ambitious  and  laborious  I  am."  The  mode  in  which  he 
occupied  himself  in  chambers  is  best  described  by  his  own  pen, 
in  a  letter  to  his  friend.  Dr.  Bennett : — «^  I  have  learned  so 
much,"  he  says  ;  "  seen  so  much,  written  so  much,  said  so  much, 
and  thought  so  much,  since  I  conversed  with  you,  that  were  I 
to  attempt  to  tell  half  what  I  have  learned,  seen,  writ,  said,  and 
thought,  my  letter  would  have  no  end.  I  spend  the  whole  winter 
in  attending  the  public  speeches  of  our  greatest  lawyers  and 
senators,  and  in  studying  our  own  admirable  laws.  I  give  up 
my  leisure  hours  to  a  Political  Treatise  on  the  Turks,  from 
which  I  expect  some  reputation ;  and  I  have  several  objects  of 
ambition  which  I  cannot  trust  to  a  letter,  but  will  impart  to  you 
when  we  meet."  In  the  midst  of  all  these  engagements  he 
found  time  to  att-^nd  Dr.  William  Hunte  's  lectures  on  anatomy. 


SIR   WILLIAM   JONES.  473 

:aiid  to  read  Newton's  Principia ;  and  in  1772,  he  published  a 
-collection  of  poems,  consisting,  principally,  of  translations  from 
the  Asiatic  languages.  In  the  same  year  he  was  elected  a  Fel- 
low of  the  Royal  Society;  and,  in  1774,  appeared  his  celebrated 
commentaries  "De  Poesi  Asiatica,"  which  procured  him  great 
reputation  both  at  home  and  abroad. 

Being  now  called  to  the  bar,  he  suspended  all  literary  pur- 
suits, and  devoted  himself,  with  intense  earnestness,  to  the  study 
of  his  profession.  In  1775,  he  became  a  regular  attendant  at 
Westminster  Hall,  and  went  the  circuit  and  sessions  at  Oxford; 
and  in  the  following  year  he  was,  without  solicitation,  made  a 
commissioner  of  bankrupt,  by  Lord  Chancellor  Bathurst.  It 
would  seem,  from  the  correspondence  of  our  author,  that  soon 
after  his  call  to  the  bar,  he  acquired  considerable  practice,  as 
he  says,  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Schultens,  dated  July,  1777,  "  My 
law  employments,  attendance  in  the  courts,  incessant  studies, 
the  arrangement  of  pleadings,  trials  of  causes,  and  opinions  to 
clients,  scarcely  allow  me  a  few  moments  for  eating  and  sleep- 
ing." In  1778,  he  published  his  "  Translation  of  the  Orations 
of  Isseus,  with  a  Prefatory  Discourse,  Notes,  and  Commentary," 
which  displayed  profound  critical  and  historical  research,  and 
excited  much  admiration.  In  March,  1780,  he  published  a 
Latin  Ode  in  favour  of  American  Freedom  ;  and,  shortly  after- 
wards, on  the  resignation  of  Sir  Roger  Newdigate,  he  was  in- 
duced to  become  a  candidate  for  the  representation  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Oxford ;  but  the  liberality  of  his  political  principles 
rendering  his  success  hopeless,  he  declined  a  poll.  The  tumults 
of  this  year  induced  him  to  write  a  pamphlet,  entitled  ''An  In- 
quiry into  the  Legal  Mode  of  suppressing  Riots,  with  a  Constitu- 
tional Plan  of  Future  Defence  ;"  and  about  the  same  period  he 
published  his  celebrated  "Essay on  the  Law  of  Bailments,"  in 
which  he  treated  his  subject,  says  Mr.  Roscoe,  with  an  accuracy 
of  method  hitherto  seldom  exhibited  by  legal  writers.  In 
1782,  he  spoke  at  a  public  meeting  in  favour  of  parliamentary 
reform,  and  also  became  a  member  of  the  Society  for  Constitu- 
tional Reformation.  In  a  letter  to  the  Dean  of  St.  Asaph,  this 
year,  he  says  it  is  "  his  wish  to  become  as  great  a  lawyer  as 
Sulpicius ;"  and  hints  at  giving  up  politics,  to  the  resignation 
of  which  he  was  the  more  inclined  in  consequence  of  a  bill  of 
ini^ictment  being  preferred  against  the  divine  above-mentioned, 
60  2b2 


474  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

for  publishing  a  tract,  composed  bj  Jones,  entitled  "A  Dialogue- 
between  a  Farmer  and  a  Country  Gentleman,  on  the  Principles 
of  Government."  Of  this  our  author  immediately  avowed  him- 
self the  writer,  by  a  letter  addressed  to  Lord  Kenyon,  in  which 
he  defended  his  positions,  and  contended  that  they  were  con- 
formable to  the  laws  of  England. 

His  political  principles  had  for  some  time  prevented  him  ob- 
taining the  grand  object  of  his  ambition, — an  Indian  judgeship; 
but  he  was  at  length,  in  March,  1783,  appointed  judge  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  Judicature  in  Bengal,  through  the  influence 
of  Lord  Ashburton.  Previous  to  his  departure  he  received  the 
honour  of  knighthood,  and  married  Miss  Shipley,  daughter  to 
the  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  with  whom  he  arrived  in  Calcutta,  in 
September,  and  entered  upon  his  judicial  functions  in  the  fol- 
lowing December.  Law,  literature,  and  philosophy,  now  en- 
grossed his  attention  to  such  a  degree,  that  his  health,  on  which 
the  climate  also  had  a  prejudicial  influence,  was  quickly  im- 
paired. In  a  letter  to  Dr.  Patrick  Russell,  dated  March,  1784, 
he  says,  "  I  do  not  expect,  so  long  as  I  stay  in  India,  to  be  free 
from  a  bad  digestion,  the  morbus  Uteratorum,  for  which  there  Is 
hardly  any  remedy  but  abstinence  from  too  much  food,  literary 
and  culinary.  I  rise  before  the  sun,  and  bathe  after  a  gentle 
ride ;  my  diet  is  light  and  sparing,  and  I  go  early  to  rest ;  yet 
the  activity  of  my  mind  is  too  strong  for  my  constitution, 
though  naturally  not  infirm,  and  I  must  be  satisfied  with  a  vale- 
tudinarian state  of  health."  Soon  after  his  arrival  he  projected 
the  scheme  of  the  Asiatic  Society,  of  which  he  became  the  first 
president,  and  contributed  many  papers  to  its  memoirs.  With 
a  view  to  rendering  himself  a  proficient  in  the  science  of  San- 
scrit and  Hindu  laws,  he  studied  the  Sanscrit  and  Arabic  lan- 
guages with  great  ardour  ;  and  while  on  a  tour  through  the  dis- 
trict of  Benares,  for  the  recovery  of  his  health,  he  composed  a 
tale,  in  verse,  called  "  The  Enchanted  Fruit,"  and  "A  Treatise  on 
the  Gods  of  Greece,  Italy,  and  India."  In  1790,  he  appears  to 
have  received  an  off*er  of  some  augmentation  of  his  salary,  as, 
in  a  letter  of  that  year  to  Sir  James  Macpherson,  he  says, 
"  really  I  want  no  addition  to  my  fortune,  which  is  enough  for 
me;  and  if  the  whole  legislature  of  Britain  were  to  offer  me  a 
station  different  from  that  I  now  fill,  I  should  most  gratefully 
and  respectfully  decline  it."     He  continued,  with  indefatigable 


SIR   WILLIAM   JONES.      •  475 

zeal,  his  compilation  of  the  Hindoo  and  Mohammedan  Digest ; 
on  the  completion  of  which  he  was  to  have  followed  his  wife  to 
England,  who  had  proceeded  thither,  for  the  recovery  of  her 
health,  in  the  December  of  1793.  This  intention,  however,  he 
did  not  live  to  carry  into  effect,  being  shortly  afterwards  at- 
tacked with  an  inflammation  of  the  liver,  which  terminated  his 
existence  on  the  27th  of  April,  1794.  His  epitaph,  written 
by  himself,  is  equally  admirable  for  its  truth  and  its  ele 
gance : — 

Here  was  deposited 

the  mortal  part  of  a  man 

who  feared  God,  but  not  death ; 

and  maintained  independence, 

but  sought  not  riches ; 

who  thought  none  below  him 

but  the  base  and  unjust; 

none  above  him  but  the  wise  and  virtuous ; 

who  loved  his  parents,  kindred,  friends,  and  country, 

and  having  devoted  his  life  to  their  service, 

and  the  improvement  of  his  mind, 

resigned  it  calmly,  giving  glory  to  his  Creator, 

wishing  peace  on  earth, 

and  good-will  to  all  his  creatures. 

His  character  was,  indeed,  truly  estimable  in  every  respect. 
<'To  exquisite  taste  and  learning  quite  unparalleled,"  says  Dr. 
Parr,  "  Sir  William  Jones  is  known  to  have  united  the  most 
benevolent  temper  and  the  purest  morals."  His  whole  life  was 
one  unceasing  struggle  for  the  interests  of  his  fellow-creatures, 
and,  unconnected  with  this  object,  he  knew  no  ambition.  He 
was  a  sincere  and  pious  Christian ;  and  in  one  of  his  latest  dis- 
courses to  the  Asiatic  Society,  he  has  done  more  to  give  validity 
to  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  creation,  than  the  researches  of 
any  contemporary  writers.  His  acquirements  as  a  linguist  were 
absolutely  wonderful ;  he  understood,  critically,  English,  Latin, 
French,  Italian,  Greek,  Arabic,  Persian,  and  Sanscrit ;  he  could 
translate,  with  the  aid  of  a  dictionary,  the  Spanish,  Portuguese, 
German,  Runic,  Hebrew,  Bengalee,  Hindu,  and  Turkish  ;  and 
he  had  bestowed  considerable  attention  on  the  Russian,  Swedish, 
Coptic,  Welsh,  Chinese,  Dutch,  Syriac,  and  several  other  lan- 
guages. In  addition  to  his  vast  stock  of  literary  information, 
he  possessed  extensive  legal  knowledge  j  and,  so  far  as  we  may 


476  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

judge  from  his  translations,  had  sufficient  capacity  and  taste  for 
a  first-rate  original  poet.  His  indefatigable  application  and 
industry  have,  perhaps,  never  been  equalled.  Even  when  in  ill 
health  he  rose  at  three  in  the  morning,  and  what  were  called 
his  hours  of  relaxation,  were  devoted  to  studies,  which  would 
have  appalled  the  most  vigorous  minds.  In  1799,  his  widow 
published  a  splendid  edition  of  his  works,  in  six  volumes,  folio, 
and  placed,  at  her  own  expense,  a  marble  statue  of  him,  exe- 
cuted by  Flaxman,  in  the  anti-chamber  of  University  College, 
Oxford ;  and,  among  other  public  testimonies  of  respect  to  his 
memory,  the  directors  of  the  East  India  Company  voted  him  a 
monument  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  and  a  statue  in  Bengal. 


WILLIAM   ROMAINE. 


477 


WILLIAM  ROMAINE. 


RIYEN  by  persecution  from  France  upon  the 
revocation  of  the  edict  of  Nantes,  the  father 
of  this  divine  sought. refuge  in  England,  and 
:  settled  at  Hartlepool,  Durham,  where  his  son 
William  was  born,  on  the  25th  of  September, 
1714.  After  having  passed  seven  years  at 
the  grammar-school  of  Houghton-le-Spring, 
he  was  sent  to  Hertford  College,  Oxford ;  whence 
he  was  removed  to  that  of  Christ  Church,  where 
he  proceeded  B.  A.  in  1734,  and  M.  A.  in  1737. 
He  officiated  for  some  time  as  curate  of  Loe  Trench- 
ard,  in  Devonshire ;  and  afterwards  as  curate  of 
Banstead  and  Horton,  near  Epsom,  where  he  became 
acquainted  with  Sir  Daniel  Lambert,  who,  on  being 
chosen  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  in  1741,  appointed  him 
his  chaplain.  Romaine  had  previously  (in  1739)  at- 
tracted some  public  notice,  by  entering  into  a  controversy  with 
Warburton,  relative  to  the  opinions  avowed  by  the  latter  in  his 
"Divine  Leoation  of  Moses."  Li  1742,  he  much  increased  his 
reputation  by  publishing  a  discourse,  entitled  "  Jephtha's  Vow 
Fulfilled  and  his  Daughter  not  Sacrificed,"  which  he  had  deli-- 
vered  before  the  University  of  Oxford ;  whence,  however,  he 
was,  some  time  afterwards,  excluded  as  a  preacher,  for  advocat- 
ing in  a  sermon,  called  "The  Lord  our  Righteousness,"  thoso 
Calvinistic  doctrines,  by  his  staunch  adherence  to  which,  he  at 
length  became  remarkably  popular. 

In  1748,  he  obtained  the  lectureship  of  St.  Botolph's,  Bil- 
lingsgate, and  subsequently  that  of  St.  Dunstan's-in-the-West. 
In  1749,  he  published  an  edition  of  "  Calasius'  Concordance;" 
in  which,  although  the  work  obtained  him  great  credit,  he  was 
charged  with  having  given  some  unwarrantable  interpretations 


478  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

of  certain  passages  of  Scripture,  with  a  view  to  support  tho 
doctrines  of  the  Hutchinsonians. 

He  was  appointed  assistant  morning  preacher  at  St.  George's, 
Hanover  Square,  in  the  following  year ;  but  he  soon  received 
notice,  as  his  biographer,  Cadogan,  states,  "  that  the  crowd  of 
people  attending  from  various  parts,  (to  hear  him  preach,)  caused 
great  inconvenience  to  the  inhabitants,  who  could  not  safely  get 
to  their  seats."  Romaine  admitted  the  fact,  and  placidly  con- 
sented to  relinquish  his  office. 

About  the  year  1752,  he  was  appointed  Gresham  professor 
of  astronomy ;  in  1756,  he  officiated  as  curate  of  St.  Olave's, 
Southwark ;  and,  in  1759,  he  became  morning  preacher  at 
St.  Bartholomew  the  Great,  Smithfield.  In  1764,  he  was 
elected  to  the  rectory  of  St.  Andrew,  Wardrobe,  and  St.  Anne, 
Blackfriars ;  where  he  remained  up  to  the  time  of  his  decease, 
which  took  place  on  the  26th  of  July,  1795.  "  In  his  last  ill- 
ness," observes  Simpson,  "not  one  fretful  or  murmuring  word 
ever  escaped  his  lips.  -I  have,'  said  he,  'the  peace  of  God  in 
my  conscience,  and  the  love  of  God  in  my  heart.  I  knew  be- 
fore, the  doctrines  I  preached  to  be  the  truths,  but  now  I  expe- 
rience them  to  be  blessings.  Jesus  is  more  precious  than  rubies ; 
and  all  that  can  be  desired  on  earth  is  not  to  be  compared  to 
him.'  He  was  in  the  full  possession  of  his  mental  powers  to 
the  last  moment,  and  near  his  dissolution  cried  out,  '  Holy,  holy, 
holy.  Lord  God  Almighty  !  Glory  be' to  thee  on  high,  for  such 
peace  on  earth  and  good  will  to  men  !'  "  His  character  in  pri- 
vate life,  although  his  temper  was  hasty,  is  said  to  have  been 
remarkably  amiable.  He  married,  in  1755,  a  young  lady  named 
Price,  by  whom  he  had  three  children. 

Besides  his  religious  tracts,  eight  volumes  of  his  sermons  have 
been  published.  His  "Walk  of  Faith"  and  "Triumph  of  Faith" 
are  still  held  in  high  estimation.  He  was  for  above  thirty  years 
one  of  the  most  popular  preachers  in  the  metropolis.  His  grand 
point  was  the  doctrine  of  imputed  righteousness ;  and  he  con- 
stantly maintained  works  to  be  subordinate  to  faith,  which  he 
declared  to  be  "  the  sheet-anchor  of  the  soul."  He  occasionally 
engaged  in  itinerant  labours  as  a  preacher ;  and  thus,  it  is  ob- 
served, placed  himself  in  the  foremost  rank  of  Calvinistic 
Methodists.  The  language  of  his  sermons  was  plain  and  un- 
adorned; but  his  delivery  was  enthusiastic;  and  he  always,  by 


WILLIAM   KOMAINE.  479 

his  manner,  impressed  a  belief  on  those  who  heard  him  that  he  was 
sincere.  It  has  been  said  of  him  that  he  appealed  rather  to  the 
heart  than  to  the  head ;  still,  his  discourses  to  the  reader  appear 
to  be  far  from  deficient  in  calm  ratiocination.  He  warmly  op- 
posed the  bill  for  naturalizing  the  Jews;  his  productions  against 
which  were  printed  at  the  expense  of  the  corporation  of  London. 
His  fame  as  a  preacher  was  at  one  time  so  great,  that  booksel- 
lers offered  him,  but  w^ithout  effect,  large  sums  for  permission  to 
place  his  name  in  the  title-pages  of  religious  compilations.  A 
publisher  named  Pasham,  it  is  said,  took  a  house  on  Finchley 
Common,  for  the  purpose  of  printing  a  beautiful  edition  of  the 
Bible,  in  imitation  of  Field's,  with  annotations  by  Romaine,  so 
managed  that  they  might  be  cut  off:  "an  artifice,"  as  Nichols 
observes,  "to  evade  the  patent  enjoyed  by  the  king's  printer.'* 
The  following  singular  circumstance  is  recorded  of  this  emi- 
nent divine : — After  he  had  been  for  some  time  in  London,  find- 
ing his  ministry  unsuccessful,  he  resolved  on  settling  in  his 
native  county,  (where  he  might  probably  have  passed  his  days 
unnoticed  as  a  curate,)  and  was  actually  on  his  way  to  the  water- 
side, for  the  purpose  of  securing  his  passage,  when  a  stranger 
accosted  him,  and  inquired  if  his  name  was  Romaine.  The 
divine  answered  in  the  affirmative.  "  So  I  suspected,"  said  the 
stranger,  "  by  the  strong  likeness  you  bear  to  your  father,  with 
whom  I  was  well  acquainted."  A  conversation  ensued;  in  the 
course  of  which,  Romaine  admitted  that  he  was  about  to  depart 
for  Durham,  in  consequence  of  his  failure  of  obtaining  prefer- 
ment in  the  metropolis.  The  stranger,  however,  persuaded  him 
to  abandon  his  intended  voyage,  by  stating  that  he  thought  he 
had  sufficient  interest  in  the  parish  of  St.  Botolph,  to  procure  him 
the  lectureship  of  that  parish,  which  then  happened  to  be  vacant. 
Success  attended  his  exertions ;  and  Romaine,  who  considered 
the  stranger's  accost  as  an  interposition  of  Divine  providence, 
thenceforth  rapidly  increased  in  estimation  as  a  preacher.  The 
circumstance  was  in  fact  the  foundation  of  his  subsequent 
eminec  ce. 


480 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 


JOSEPH   BUTLER. 


0  man  has  conferred  more  honour  upon  the 
Episcopal  bench  than  the  author  of  «'  The 
Analogy."  He  was  the  son  of  a  shopkeeper, 
a  Presbyterian  dissenter,  and  was  born  at 
Wantage,  in  Berkshire,  in  1692.  After  re- 
ceiving the  rudiments  of  education  at  the  free 
grammar-school  of  his  native  place,  he  was  sent 
to  a  Presbyterian  academy,  at  Tewkesbury,  with 
a  view  to  his  becoming  a  pastor  in  his  own  com- 
munion. His  progress  in  the  study  of  divinity 
was  rapid;  but  his  mind  became  tainted  with  skep- 
ticism, and  in  November,  1713,  he  commenced  a 
series  of  anonymous  private  letters  to  Dr.  Clarke,  in 
which  he  stated  many  acute,  but  untenable  objectiona 
to  the  arguments  of  that  divine,  in  his  "  Demonstration 
of  the  Being  and  Attributes  of  a  God." 
He  next  proceeded  to  examine  the  points  of  controversy  be- 
tween the  members  of  his  own  communion  and  those  of  the 
established  church  ;  and  at  length  he  determined  to  conform, 
lu  March,  1714,  he  was  admitted  a  commoner  of  Oriel  College, 
Oxford  ;  and,  having  been  ordained,  procured  partly  through 
Dr.  Clarke's  interest,  the  office  of  preacher  at  the  Rolls.  In 
1721,  he  took  the  degree  of  B.  C.  L.,  and,  in  1726,  published  a 
volume  of  sermons,  which  procured  him  considerable  reputation. 
The  Bishop  of  Durham,  to  whom  he  had  been  introduced  h] 
that  prelate's  son,  Mr.  Edward  Talbot,  his  fellow-collegian  av 
Oriel,  presented  him,  in  1722,  to  the  rectory  of  Haughton ;  and 
ill  1725  to  the  living  of  Stanhope.  At  the  latter  cure  he  resided 
a  number  of  years,  discharging  his  pastoral  duties  greatly  to 
the  satisfaction  of  his  parishioners.  At  length,  Seeker,  whom 
he  had  persuaded  to  take  holy  orders,  procured  him  the  appoint- 
ment of  chaplain  to  the  lord  chancellor,  and  recommended  him 


JOSEPH   BUTLER.  481 

to  the  notice  of  Queen  Caroline,  who  appointed  him  her  clerk 
of  the  closet.  Previously  to  his  obtaining  the  latter  preferment, 
he  had  been  admitted  to  the  degree  of  D.  C.  L.,  and  nominated 
bj  the  lord  chancellor  a  prebendary  of  Rochester.  In  1736,  he 
published  his  great  work,  <'  The  Analogy  of  Religion,  Natural 
and  Revealed,  to  the  Constitution  and  Course  of  Nature  ;"  which 
has  with  much  justice  been  designated  one  of  the  most  excellent 
theological  works  extant.  Dr.  Wood,  the  Dean  of  Ely,  when  some 
opposition  was  made  to  the  severe  examination  in  "  The  Analogy," 
which  all  students  undergo,  during  the  third  year  of  their  residence 
at  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge,  of  which  he  was  master,  is 
said  to  have  observed,  that  "'bate  the  Bible,  it  was  the  best 
book  he  knew  !'*  In  1738,  Butler  was  consecrated  Bishop  of 
Bristol ;  and  in  1740  made  Dean  of  St.  Paul's.  He  now  resigned 
his  living  at  Stanhope,  and  devoted  his  attention  solely  to  the 
duties  of  the  deanery  and  see.  In  1746,  he  was  nominated  clerk- 
of  the  closet  to  George  II. ;  by  whom,  in  October,  1750,  he  was 
translated  to  the  bishopric  of  Durham.  His  primary  charge  to 
the  clergy  of  his  new  diocese,  in  which  he  advocated  the  efficacy 
of  religious  forms  and  ceremonies  as  tending  to.  the  advance  of 
piety,  somewhat  strengthened  a  suspicion,  Avhich  had  previously 
been  entertained,  on  account  of  his  having  set  up  a  cross  in  his 
chapel  at  Bristol,  that  his  principles  were  verging  on  popery; 
and,  after  his  decease,  a  report  prevailed  that  he  had  died  a 
Roman  Catholic ;  but  Porteus  and  Stinton,  in  their  "  Life  of 
Seeker,"  have  satisfactorily  shown  that  such  was  not  the  fact. 

Bishop  Butler  appears  to  have  been  eminently  pious,  chari- 
table, eloquent,  and  learned.  While  Bishop  of  Bristol,  he  ex- 
pended more  than  a  year's  revenue  of  the  see  in  repairing  the 
Ep'^scopal  palace.  He  contributed  munificently  to  various 
infirmaries,  and  left  a  large  bequest  to  the  Society  for  Propa- 
gating the  Gospel  in  Foreign  Parts.  He  was  remarkably  hos- 
pitable to  his  clergy,  the  poorest  of  whom  he  frequently  visited, 
without  ostentation,  and  they  in  return  were  at  all  times  wel- 
come to  his  palace.  He  died  unmarried  at  Bath,  on  the  16th  of 
June,  1752,  and  his  remains  were  interred  in  Bristol  Cathedral. 


61  2S 


482 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


RALPH    CUDWORTH. 


ALPH  CUDWORTH,  (1617-1688)  is  cele- 
brated as  a  very  learned  divine  and  philoso- 
pher of  this  age.  He  studied  nt  the  Uni- 
versity of  Cambridge,  where,  during  the  thirty 
years  succeeding  1645,  he  held  the  office  of 
regius  professor  of  Hebrew.  His  principal 
work,  which  is  entitled  "The  True  Intellectual 
System  of  the  Universe,"  was  published  in  1678, 
and  is  designed  as  a  refutation  of  the  atheistical 
tenets  which  at  that  time  were  extensively  held 
n  England.  It  executes  only  a  portion  of  his 
design;  namely,  the  establishment  of  the  following 
three  propositions,  which  he  regarded  as  the  funda- 
mentals or  essentials  of  true  religion:  "First,  that  all 
things  in  the  world  do  not  float  without  a  head  and 
governor ;  but  that  there  is  a  God,  an  omnipotent  under- 
standing being,  presiding  over  all.  Secondly,  that  this  God 
being  essentially  good  and  just,  there  is  something  in  its  own 
nature  immutably  and  eternally  just  and  unjust;  and  not  by 
arbitrary  will,  law,  and  command  only.  And  lastly,  that  we 
arc  so  far  forth  principals  or  masters  of  our  own  actions,  as  to 
be  accountable  to  justice  for  them,  or  to  make  us  guilty  and 
blame-worthy  for  what  we  do  amiss,  and  to  deserve  punishment 
accordingly."  From  this  statement  by  Cudworth  in  his  preface, 
the  reader  will  observe  that  he  maintained,  (in  opposition  to  two 
of  the  leading  doctrines  of  Hobbes,)  first,  the  existence  of  a 
natural  and  everlasting  distinction  between  justice  and  injustice ; 
and  secondly,  the  freedom  of  the  human  will.  On  the  former 
point  he  differs  from  most  subsequent  opponents  of  Hobbisra, 
in  ascribing  our  consciousness  of  the  natural  difference  of  right 
and  wrong  entirely  to  the  reasoning  faculties,  and  in  no  degree 
to  sentiment  or  emotion.     As,  however,  he  confines  his  attention, 


RALPH   CUDWORTH.  483 

in  the  "Intellectual  System,"  to  the  first  essential  of  true  re- 
ligion enumerated  in  the  passage  just  quoted,  ethical  questions 
are  in  that  work  but  incidentally  and  occasionally  touched  upon. 
In  combating  the  atheists,  he  displays  a  prodigious  amount  of 
erudition,  and  that  rare  degree  of  candour  which  prompts  a 
controversi-alist  to  give  a  full  statement  of  the  opinions  and 
arguments  which  he  means  to  refute.  This  fairness  brought 
upon  him  the  reproach  of  insincerity ;  and  by  a  contemporary 
Protestant  theologian  the  epithets  of  Arian,  Socinian,  Deist, 
and  even  Atheist,  were  freely  applied  to  him.  "  He  has  raised," 
says  Dryden,  "such  strong  objections  against  the  being  of  a 
God  and  Providence,  that  many  think  he  has  not  answered 
them  :" — "  the  common  fate,"  as  Lord  Shaftesbury  remarks  on 
this  occasion,  "  of  those  who  dare  to  appear  fair  authors."  This 
clamour  seems  to  have  disheartened  the  philosopher,  who  re- 
frained from  publishing  the  other  portions  of  his  scheme.  He 
left,  however,  several  manuscript  works,  one  of  which,  entitled 
"  A  Treatise  concerning  Eternal  and  Immutable  Morality,"  but 
only  introductory  in  its  character,  was  published  in  1731,  by 
Dr.  Chandler,  Bishop  of  Durham.  His  unprinted  writings 
are  now  in  the  British  Museum,  and  include  treatises  on  Moral 
Good  and  Evil,  Liberty  and  Necessity,  the  Creation  of  the 
World,  and  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul,  the  Learning  of  the 
Hebrews,  and  Hobbes's  Notions  concerning  the  Nature  of  God 
and  the  Extension  of  Spirits.  Mr.  Dugald  Stewart,  speaking 
of  the  two  published  works,  observes,  that  "The  Intellectual 
System"  of  Cudworth  embraces  a  field  much  wider  than  his 
treatise  of  "Immutable  Morality."  The  latter  is  particularly 
directed  against  the  doctrines  of  Hobbes,  and  of  the  Antino- 
mians  ;  but  the  former  aspires  to  tear  up  by  the  roots  all  the 
principles,  both  physical  and  metaphysical,  of  the  Epicurean 
philosophy.  It  is  a  work,  certainly,  which  reflects  much  honour 
on  the  talents  of  the  author,  and  still  more  on  the  boundless 
extent  of  his  learning ;  but  it  is  so  ill-suited  to  the  taste  of  the 
present  age,  that,  since  the  time  of  Mr.  Harris  and  Dr.  Price, 
I  scarcely  recollect  the  slightest  reference  to  it  in  the  writings  of 
our  British  metaphysicians.  Of  its  faults,  (besides  the  general 
disposition  of  the  author  to  discuss  questions  placed  altogethei 
beyond  the  reach  of  our  faculties,)  the  most  prominent  is  the 
wild  hypothesis  of  a  plastic   nature ;  or,  in  other  words,   "  of 


484  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

a  vital  and  spiritual,  but  unintelligent  and  necessary  agent, 
created  by  the  Deity  for  the  execution  of  his  purposes.'* 
Notwithstanding,  however,  these  and  many  other  abatements 
of  its  merits,  the  "Intellectual  System"  will  for  ever  remain  a 
precious  mine  of  information  to  those  whose  curiosity  may  lead 
them  to  study  the  spirit  of  the  ancient  theories.  A  Latin 
translation  of  this  work  was  published  by  Moshiem,  at  Jena, 
in  1733. 


JOHN   FLAVEL. 


485 


JOHN    FLAVEL 


OHN  FLAVEL,  an  eminent  nonconformist 
minister,  was  educated  at  University  College, 
Oxford  ;  and  became  minister  of  Deptford, 
and  afterwards  of  Dartmouth,  in  Devon- 
shire, where  he  resided  the  greater  part  of 
his  life,  and  was  much  admired.  Though  he 
was  generally  respected  at  Dartmouth,  yet,  in 
1685,  several  of  the  aldermen  of  that  town, 
attended  by  the  rabble,  carried  about  a  ridiculous 
eflSgy  of  him,  to  which  were  affixed  the  Bill  of 
Exclusion,  and  the  Covenant.  He  therefore 
thought  it  prudent  to  withdraw  from  the  town ; 
not  knowing  what  treatment  he  might  meet  with 
from  a  riotous  mob,  headed  by  magistrates  who  were 
themselves  among  the  lowest  of  mankind.  Part  of 
his  diary,  printed  with  his  "Remains,"  give  a  high  idea 
of  his  piety.  He  died  in  1691,  aged  61  ;  and  after  his  death, 
his  works,  consisting  of  many  pieces  of  practical  divinity,  were 
printed  in  two  volumes,  folio.  Among  these,  the  most  famous 
are,  "Navigation  Spiritualized;"  "Divine  Conduct,  or  the 
Mysteries  of  Providence;"  and,  "Husbandry  Spiritualized;'' 
of  all  which  there  have  been  many  editions  in  octavo.  Flavel's 
writings  are  deservedly  popular,  from  their  fervent  spirit  of 
piety,  as  well  as  from  their  rich,  though  rather  quaint  style ; 
and  their  abounding  in  familiar  illustrations  drawn  from  the 
ordinary  pursuits  of  life.  Some  of  them  have  been  repeatedly 
reprinted  in  this  country. 


282 


486 


LIVES    OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 


EDMUND   CALAMY. 


DMUND  CALAMY,  an  eminent  Presbyterijin 
divine,  born  at  London  in  1600,  and  educated 
at  Cambridge,  where  his  attachment  to  the 
Arminian  party  excluded  him  from  a  fellow- 
ship. Dr.  Felton,  bishop  of  Ely,  however, 
made  him  his  chaplain  ;  and,  in  1639,  he  waa 
chosen  minister  of  St.  Mary  Aldermary,  in 
London.  Upon  the  opening  of  the  Long  Parlia- 
ment, he  distinguished  himself  in  defence  of  the 
Presbyterian  cause ;  and  had  a  principal  hand  in 
writing  the  famous  Smectymnus,  which,  he  says, 
gave  the  first  deadly  blow  to  episcopacy.  The 
authors  of  this  tract  were  five  :  the  initials  of  whose 
names  formed  the  name  under  which  it  was  published, 
viz.  Stephen  Marshal,  Edmund  Calamy,  Thomas 
Young,  Matthew  Newcomen,  and  William  Sparstow. 
He  was  afterwards  an  active  member  in  the  Assembly  of  Divines, 
was  a  strenuous  opposer  of  sectaries,  and  used  his  utmost  en- 
deavours to  prevent  those  violences  committed  after  the  king 
was  brought  from  the  Isle  of  Wight.  In  Cromwell's  time,  he 
lived  privately,  but  was  assiduous  in  promoting  the  king's  return  ; 
for  which  he  was  afterwards  offered  a  bishopric,  but  refused  it. 
He  was  ejected  for  nonconformity,  in  1662;  and  died  of  grief 
at  the  sight  of  the  great  fire  of  London,  in  1666. 


EDMUND   CALAMY. 


487 


EDMUND   CALAMY, 


RANDSON  of  the  preceding,  by  his  eldest  son 

Mr.  Edmund  Calamy,  who  was  ejected  out  of  the 
living  of  Moxtonin  Essex,  on  St.  Bartholomew's 
day,  1662.  He  was  born  in  London,  April  5, 
1671.  After  having  learned  the  languages, 
and  gone  through  a  course  of  natural  philoso- 
phy and  logic,  at  a  private  academy  in  England, 
he  studied  philosophy  and  civil  law  at  the  uni- 
versity of  Utrecht,  and  attended  the  lectures  of 
the  learned  Graevius.  While  he  resided  there,  an 
offer  of  a  professor's  chair  in  the  university  of 
Edinburgh  was  made  him  by  Principal  Carstairs,  sent 
over  on  purpose  to  find  a  person  properly  qualified  for 
the  office.  This  he  declined,  and  returned  to  England 
in  1691,  bringing  wdthhim  letters  from  Graevius  to  Pre  • 
fessors  Pocock  and  Bernard,  who  obtained  leave  for  him 
to  prosecute  his  studies  in  the  Bodleian  library.  He  entered 
into  an  examination  of  the  controversy  between  the  conformists 
and  the  nonconformists,  which  determined  him  to  join  the  latter  ; 
and  coming  to  London  in  1692,  he  was  unanimously  chosen 
assistant  to  Mr.  Matthew  Sylvester,  at  Blackfriars ;  and  in 
1674,  ordained  at  Mr.  Annesly's  meeting-house.  In  1702,  he 
was  chosen  one  of  the  lecturers  in  Salter's  Hall  ;  and  in  1703, 
succeeded  Mr.  Vincent  Alsop  in  Westminster.  He  drew  up  the 
table  of  contents  to  Mr.  Baxter's  <■<■  History  of  his  Life  and 
Times,"  which  was  sent  to  the  press  in  1696 ;  made  some  re- 
marks on  the  work  itself,  and  added  to  it  an  index ;  and,  reflect- 
ing on  the  usefulness  of  the  book,  he  saw  the  expediency  of 
continuing  it,  as  it  came  no  lower  than  1684.  Accordingly, 
he  composed  an  abridgment  of  it,  with  an  account  of  many 
other  ministers,  who  were  ejected  after  the  Restoration ;  their 
apology,  containing  the  grounds  of  their  nonconformity ;  and  a 


488  LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

continuation  of  their  history  till  1691.  This  work  was  published 
in  1702.  He  afterwards  published  a  moderate  defence  of  non- 
conformity, in  tracts,  in  answer  to  Dr.  Hoadly.  In  1709,  he 
made  a  tour  to  Scotland;  and  had  the  degree  of  D.  D.  con. 
ferred  on  him  by  the  Universities  of  Edinburgh,  Aberdeen,  and 
Glasgow.  In  1713,  he  published  a  second  edition  of  his 
"  Abridgment  of  Baxter's  History,  in  which,  among  other 
additions,  there  is  a  continuation  of  the  history  through  King 
William's  reign  and  Queen  Anne's,  down  to  the  passing  of  the 
occasional  bill ;  and  in  the  close  is  subjoined  the  reformed 
liturgy,  which  was  drawn  up  and  presented  to  the  bishops  in 
1661,  "that  the  world  may  judge,"  he  says,  ''  how  fairly  the 
ejected  ministers  have  been  often  represented  as  irreconcileable 
enemies  to  all  liturgies."  In  1718,  he  wrote  a  vindication  of 
his  grandfather  and  others,  against  certain  reflections  cast  upon 
them  by  Mr.  Echard,  in  his  "  History  of  England  ;"  and  in 
1728,  appeared  the  continuation  of  the  account  of  the  ministers, 
lecturers,  masters,  and  fellows  of  colleges,  and  schoolmasters, 
who  were  ejected  after  the  Restoration.  He  died,  June  3, 
1732,  greatly  regretted  both  by  the  dissenters  and  members  of 
the  established  church,  with  many  of  whom  he  lived  in  great 
intimacy.  Besides  the  pieces  already  mentioned,  he  published 
many  sermons.    He  was  twice  married,  and  had  thirteen  children. 


ROBERT  BARCLAY. 


4«9 


ROBERT  BARCLAY, 


NE  of  the  most  eminent  among  the  Quakers, 
the  son  of  Colonel  David  Barclay,  descended 
of  an  ancient  family,  was  born  at  Edinburgh 
in  1648.  He  was  educated  under  an  uncle, 
Avho  was  principal  of  the  Scots  college  at  Pa- 
ris, where  the  papists  used  all  their  efforts  to 
draw  him  over  to  their  religion.  He  joined 
the  Quakers  in  1669,  and  distinguished  himself 
by  his  zeal  and  abilities  in  defence  of  their  doc- 
trines. His  first  treatise  in  their  defence  was 
published  at  Aberdeen  in  1670.  His  father,  the 
colonel,  had  joined  them  in  1666.  In  1676  he  pub- 
lished in  Latin,  at  Amsterdam,  his  ''  Apology  for  the 
Quakers;"  which  is  the  most  celebrated  of  his  works, 
and  esteemed  the  standard  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Quak- 
ers. His  "  Theses  Theologicse,"  which  were  the  founda- 
tion of  this  work,  and  addressed  to  the  clergy  of  what  sort  so- 
ever, were  published  before  the  writing  of  the  Apology,  and 
printed  in  Latin,  French,  High  Dutch,  Low  Dutch,  and  English. 
He  translated  his  Apology  into  English,  and  published  it  in 
1678,  with  a  dedication  to  King  Charles  II.  which  is  remark- 
able for  the  uncommon  frankness  and  simplicity  with  which  it  is 
written.  Among  many  other  extraordinary  passages,  we  meet 
with  the  following  ;  "  There  is  no  king  in  the  world,  who  can 
so  experimentally  testify  of  God's  providence  and  goodness  ; 
neither  is  there  any  one  who  rules  so  many  free  people,  so  many 
true  Christians  ;  which  thing  renders  thy  government  more  hon- 
ourable, thyself  more  considerable,  than  the  accession  of  many 
nations  filled  with  slavish  and  superstitious  souls.  Thou  hast 
tasted  of  prosperity  and  adversity ;  thou  knowest  what  it  is  to 
be  banished  thy  native  country,  to  be  over-ruled  as  well  as  to 
rule  and  sit  upon  the  throne  ;  and  being  oppressed,   thou  hast 


490  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

reason  to  know  how  hateful  the  oppressor  is  both  to  God  and 
man ;  if,  after  all  those  warnings  and  advertisements,  thou  dost 
not  turn  unto  the  Lord  with  alj  thj  heart,  but  forget  him  wTio 
remembered  thee  in  thy  distress,  and  give  up  thyself  to  follow 
lust  and  vanity,  surely  great  will  be  thy  condemnation."  lie 
travelled  with  the  famous  William  Penn  through  the  greatest 
part  of  England,  Holland,  and  Germany,  and  was  everywhere 
received  with  the  highest  respect ;  for  though  both  his  conver- 
sation and  behaviour  were  suitable  to  his  principles,  yet  there 
was  such  liveliness  and  spirit  in  his  discourse,  and  such  serenity 
and  cheerfulness  in  his  deportment,  as  rendered  him  extremely 
agreeable  to  all  sorts  of  people.  He  returned  to  his  native 
country,  spent  the  remainder  of  his  life  in  a  quiet  and  retired 
manner :  and  died  at  his  house  at  Ury,  on  the  3d  of  Oct.  1690, 
aged  42.  He  wrote  various  other  works ;  particularly,  1.  «'  A 
Treatise  on  Universal  Love :"  2.  "  The  Anarchy  of  the  Ranters :" 
(a  turbulent  sect  with  whom  the  enemies  of  the  Quakers  endea- 
voured to  confound  them : )  3.  <<  A  Letter  to  the  Ministers  of 
Nimeguen:"  4.  "  The  Possibility  and  Necessity  of  the  Inward 
Revelation  of  the  Spirit  of  God,"  &c.  &c. 


SAMUEL   CLAKKE. 


491 


SAMUEL  CLARKE. 


HIS  very  celebrated  English  divine  was  the 
son    of  Edward  Clarke,   Esq. ;    alderman    of 
Norwich,  and  M.  P.  for  several  years.      He 
was  born  at  Norwich,  October  11,  1675,  and 
instructed  in   classical    learning  at   the  free 
school  of  that  town.     In  1691,  he  removed  to 
Caius  College,  Cambridge,  where  his  uncommon 
abilities    soon    began    to    display    themselves. 
Though  the  Cartesian  system  was  at  that  time 
the  established  philosophy  of  the  university,  yet 
Clarke  made  himself  master  of  the  new  system  of 
Newton  ;  and  in  order  to  his  first  degree  of  arts, 
performed  a  public  exercise  in  the  schools   upon  a 
question  taken  from  it.     He  contributed  much  to  the 
establishment  of  the  Newtonian   philosophy  by  an  ex- 
cellent   translation    of  Rohault's   Physics,    which    he 
ith  notes,  before  he  was  twenty-two  years  of  age. 
Rohault's  system  of  natural  philosophy  was  then  generally 
taught  in  the  university.     It  was  founded  altogether  upon  Car- 
tesian  principles,  and  very  ill   translated  into   Latin.      Clarke 
gave  a  new  translation,  and   added   such   notes  as   might  lead 
students  insensibly  and  by  degrees  to  truer  notions  than  could 
be  found  there.     "And  this  certainly  (says  Bishop  Hoadly)  was 
a  more  prudent  method  of  introducing  truth  unknown  before, 
than  to  attempt  to  throw  aside  this  treatise  entirely,  and  write 
a  new  one  instead  of  it."     The  success  answered  to  his  hopes; 
and  he  was  doubtless  a  great  benefactor  to  the  university  in  this 
attempt.     For  the  true  philosophy  has  thus,  without  any  noise, 
prevailed.     Whiston  relates,  that,  in  1697,  while  he  was  chap- 
lain to  Moore,  Bishop  of  Norwich,  he  met  young  Clarke,  then 
whrlly  unknown  to   him,  at  a  coffee-house  in  that  city ;  where 


finished,  wi 


492  LIVES   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

they  entered  into  a  conversation  about  the  Cartesian  philosophy; 
particularly  Rohault's  Physics,  which  Clarke's  tutor,  as  he  tells 
us,  had  put  him  upon  translating.  "  The  result  of  this  conver- 
sation was,  (says  Whiston,)  that  I  was  greatly  surprised  that  so 
young  a  man  as  Clarke  then  was,  should  know  so  much  of  those 
sublime  discoveries,  which  were  then  almost  a  secret  to  all,  but 
to  a  few  particular  mathematicians."  This  translation  of  Ro- 
nault  was  first  printed  in  1697,  octavo.  There  were  four  edi- 
tions of  it,  in  every  one  of  which  improvements  were  made ; 
especially  in  the  last,  in  1718,  Avhich  was  translated  by  Dr.  John 
Clarke,  Dean  of  Sarum,  the  author's  brother,  and  published  in 
2  vols,  octavo. 

Afterwards  he  turned  his  thoughts  to  divinity ;  and  studied 
the  Old  Testament  in  Hebrew,  the  New.in  Greek,  and  the  pri- 
mitive Christian  writers.  Having  taken  orders,  he  became 
chaplain  to  Bishop  Moore,  who  was  ever  afterwards  his  friend 
and  patron.  In  1699,  he  published  "Three  practical  Essays 
on  Baptism,  Confirmation,  and  Repentance;"  and  "Some  Re- 
flections on  that  part  of  a  book  called  Amyntor,  or  a  Defence 
of  Milton's  Life,  which  relates  to  the  Writings  of  the  Primitive 
Fathers,  and  the  Canon  of  the  New  Testament."  In  1701,  he 
published  "A  Paraphrase  upon  the  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew;" 
which  was  followed,  in  1702,  by  the  "Paraphrases  upon  the 
Gospels  of  St.  Mark,  and  St.  Luke,"  and  soon  after  by  a  third 
volume  upon  St.  John.  They  were  afterwards  printed  toge- 
ther in  2  vols,  octavo ;  and  have  since  undergone  several  edi- 
tions. Meantime,  Bishop  Moore  gave  him  the  rectory  of  Dray- 
ton, near  Norwich,  and  procui-ed  for  him  a  parish  in  that  city; 
and  these  he  served  himself  in  that  season  when  the  bishop  re- 
sided at  Norwich.  In  1704,  he  was  appointed  to  preach  Boyle's 
lecture ;  and  the  subject  he  chose  was,  "  The  being  and  attri- 
butes of  God."  In  this,  he  gave  such  high  satisfaction,  that  he 
was  appointed  to  preach  the  same  lecture  the  next  year ;  when 
he  chose  for  his  subject,  "The  evidences  of  natural  and  revealed 
religion."  These  sermons  were  first  printed  in  two  distinct 
volumes;  the  former  in  1705,  the  latter  in  1706.  They  have 
since  been  printed  in  one  volume,  under  the  general  title  of 
"A  Discourse  concerning  the  Being  and  Attributes  of  God,  the 
Obligations  of  Natural  Religion,  and  the  Truth  and  Certainty 
of  the  Christian  Revelation,  in  answer  to  Hobbes,  Spinoza,  the 


SAMUEL   CLARKE.  493 

Author  of  the  Oracles  of  Reason,  and  other  deniers  of  Natural 
and  Revealed  Religion."  Clarke  having  endeavoured  in  the 
first  part  of  this  work  to  show,  that  the  being  of  a  God  may  be 
demonstrated  by  arguments  a 'priori^  incurred  the  censure  which 
Pope  passed  upon  this  method  of  reasoning  in  the  following  lines, 
put  into  the  mouth  of  one  of  his  dunces ; 

"Let  others  creep  by  timid  steps  and  slow, 
On  plain  experience  lay  foundations  low, 
We  nobly  take  the  high  priori  road, 
And  reason  downward,  till  we  doubt  of  God." 

Dunciad,  b.  4,  1.  455. 

Upon  which  we  have  the  following  note  :  "Those  who,  from  the 
effects  in  this  visible  world,  deduce  the  eternal  power  and  God- 
head of  the  first  cause,  though  they  cannot  attain  to  an  ade- 
quate idea  of  the  Deity,  yet  discover  so  much  of  him  as  enables 
them  to  see  the  end  of  their  creation  and  the  means  of  their 
happiness :  whereas  they  who  take  this  high  priori  road,  as 
Hobbes,  Spinosa,  Des  Cartes,  and  some  better  reasoners,  for 
one  that  goes  right,  ten  lose  themselves  in  mists,  or  ramble  after 
visions,  which  deprive  them  of  all  sight  of  their  end,  and  mis- 
lead them  in  the  choice  of  wrong  means."  Clarke,  it  is  proba- 
ble, would  not  have  denied  this ;  and  the  poet  perhaps  would 
have  spared  his  better  reasoners,  and  not  have  joined  them  with 
such  company,  had  he  recollected  our  author's  apology  for  using 
the  argument  a  priori.  "  The  argument  a  j^osteriori  (says  he) 
is  indeed  by  far  the  most  generally  useful  argument,  most  easy 
to  be  understood,  and  in  some  degree  suited  to  all  capacities; 
and  therefore  it  ought  always  to  be  insisted  upon  :  but  foras- 
much as  atheistical  Avriters  have  sometimes  opposed  the  being 
and  attributes  of  God  by  such  metaphysical  reasonings,  as  can 
no  otherwise  be  obviated  than  by  arguing  a  priori;  therefore 
this  manner  of  arguing  also  is  useful  and  necessary  in  its  proper 
place."  As  to  the  merit,  indeed,  of  his  whole  work,  including 
the  evidences  of  natural  and  revealed  religion,  it  is  undoubt- 
edly of  the  first  order.  It  reflects  honour  on  the  age  as  well  as 
the  author  that  produced  it,  and  will  descend,  with  reputation, 
to  a  late  posterity.  The  defence,  in  particular,  of  the  sacred 
original  and  authority  of  Christianity,  is  admirably  conducted. 
In  1706,  he  published  ''A  Letter  to  Mr.  Dodwell ;"  wherein  all 
the  arguments  in  his  epistolary  discourse  against  the  immor- 

2T 


494  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

tality  of  the  soul  are  particularlv  answered.  The  celebrated 
Collins,  coming  in  as  a  second  to  Dodwell,  went  much  farther 
into  the  philosophy  of  the  dispute,  and  indeed  seemed  to  pro- 
duce all  that  could  possibly  be  said  against  the  immateriality 
of  the  soul,  as  well  as  the  liberty  of  human  actions.  But  our 
author  in  reply  wrote  with  such  clearness  and  demonstration,  as 
showed  him  greatly  superior  to  his  adversaries  in  metaphysical 
and  physical  knowledge;  and  made  every  intelligent  reader 
rejoice,  that  such  an  incident  had  happened  to  extort  from  him 
that  strong  reasoning  and  perspicuity  of  reasoning,  which  were 
so  much  wanted  upon  this  intricate  subject.  Clarke's  letter  to 
Dodwell  was  soon  followed  by  four  defences  of  it,  in  four  several 
letters  to  him,  containing,  "  Remarks  on  a  pretended  Demon- 
stration of  the  Immateriality  and  natural  Immortality  of  the 
Soul,"  &c.  They  were  afterwards  all  printed  together;  and 
the  "Answer  to  Toland's  Amyntor"  added  to  them.  In  the 
midst  of  all  these  labours,  he  found  time  to  show  his  regard  to 
mathematical  and  physical  studies,  and  exact  knowledge  and 
skill  in  them.  And  his  capacity  for  these  studies  was  not  e 
little  improved  by  the  friendship  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton  ;  at  whose 
request  he  translated  his  Optics  into  Latin,  in  1706.  With  this 
version,  Sir  Isaac  was  so  highly  pleased,  that  he  presented  him 
with  the  sum  of  £500,  or  =£100  for  each  child,  Clarke  having 
then  five  children.  This  year  also.  Bishop  Moore,  who  had 
long  formed  a  design  of  fixing  him  more  conspicuously,  pro- 
cured for  him  the  rector  of  St.  Bonnet's,  London  ;  and  soon 
after  carried  him  to  court,  and  recommended  him  to  the  favour 
of  Queen  Anne.  She  appointed  him  one  of  her  chaplains  in 
ordinary ;  and  presented  him  to  the  rectory  of  St.  James's^ 
Westminster,  in  1709.  Upon  his  advancement  to  this  station, 
he  took  the  degree  of  D.  D.,  when  the  public  exercise  which  he 
performed  for  it  at  Cambridge  was  prodigiously  admired.  The 
questions  which  he  maintained  were  these:  \.  Nullam  fidei 
Cliristiance  dogma,  in  sacris  scripturis  traditum,  est  rectce  ra- 
tioni  dissentaneum  ;  that  is,  "No  article  of  the  Christian  faith, 
delivered  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  is  disagreeable  to  right  rea- 
son." 2.  Sine  actionum  humanarum  libertate  nulla  potest  esse 
religio  ;  that  is,  "  Without  the  liberty  of  human  actions  there 
can  be  no  religion,"  His  thesis  was  upon  the  first  of  these 
questions ;  which  being  properly  sifted  by  that  most  acute  dis- 


SAMUEL   CLARKE.  495 

putaut,  Professor  James,  he  made  an  extempore  reply,  in  a  con- 
tinued discourse  for  near  half  an  hour,  with  so  little  hesitation 
that  many  of  the  auditors  were  astonished,  and  owned,  that  if 
they  had  not  been  within  sight  of  him,  they  should  have  sup- 
posed him  to  have  read  every  w^ord  of  it.  Through  the  course 
of  the  syllogistical  disputation,  he  guarded  so  well  against  the 
arts  which  the  professor  was  a  complete  master  of;  replied  so 
readily  to  the  greatest  difficulties  he  could  propose;  and  pressed 
him  so  hard  with  clear  and  intelligible  answers,  that  perhaps 
there  never  was  such  a  conflict  heard  in  those  schools.  The 
professor,  who  was  a  man  of  humour  as  well  as  learning,  said 
to  him  at  the  end  of  the  disputation,  Profecto^  me  prohe  exer- 
cuisti ;  that  is,  "  On  my  word,  you  have  w^orked  me  suffi- 
ciently;" and  the  members  of  the  university  went  away,  admir- 
ing, that  Clarke,  after  an  absence  of  so  many  years,  and  a  long 
series  of  business  of  quite  another  nature,  should  acquit  him- 
self in  such  a  manner,  as  if  academical  exercises  had  been  his 
constant  employment ;  and  with  such  fluency  and  purity  of  ex- 
pression, as  if  he  had  been  accustomed  to  converse  in  no  other 
language  but  Latin.  The  same  year,  he  revised  and  corrected 
Whiston's  translation  of  the  Apostolical  Constitutions  into  Eng- 
lish. Whiston  tells  us,  that  his  own  studies  having  been  chiefly 
upon  other  things,  and  having  rendered  him  incapable  of  being 
also  a  critic  in  words  and  languages,  he  desired  his  great  friend 
and  great  critic.  Dr.  Clarke,  to  revise  that  translation  ;  which 
he  was  so  kind  as  to  agree  to.  In  1712,  he  published  a  most  beau- 
tiful and  pompous  edition  of  Caesar's  Commentaries,  adorned 
with  elegant  sculptures.  It  was  printed  in  folio  ;  and  after- 
wards, in  1720,  octavo.  It  was  dedicated  to  the  great  Duke  of 
Marlborough.  The  doctor  took  particular  care  of  the  punctua- 
tion. In  the  annotations,  he  selected  the  best  and  most  judi- 
cious in  former  editions,  with  some  corrections  of  his  own  inter- 
spersed. Mr.  Addison  says  of  this  work,  "The  new  edition, 
which  is  given  us  of  Caesar's  Commentaries,  has  already  been 
taken  notice  of  in  foreign  gazettes,  and  is  a  work  that  does 
honour  to  the  English  press.  It  is  no  wonder  that  an  edition 
should  be  very  correct,  which  has  passed  through  the  hands  of 
one  of  the  most  accurate,  learned,  and  judicious  writers  this  age 
has  produced.  The  beauty  of  the  paper,  of  the  character,  and 
of  the  several  cuts  with  which  this  noble  work  is  illustrated, 


406  LIVES   OP  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

makes  it  the  finest  book  I  have  ever  seen  ;  and  is  a  true  instance 
of  the  English  genius,  which,  though  it  does  not  come  the  first 
into  any  art,  generally  carries  it  to  greater  heights  than  any 
other  country  in  the  world."  This  noble  work  has  risen  in 
value.  A  copy  of  this  edition,  in  large  paper,  most  splendidly 
bound  in  morocco,  was  sold  at  the  Hon.  Mr.  Beauclerk's  sale  for 
^44.  The  binding  had  cost  Mr.  Beauclerk  five  guineas.  The 
same  year,  1712,  he  published  his  celebrated  book  intituled, 
<'  The  Scripture  Doctrine  of  the  Trinity,"  &c.,  which  is  divided 
into  three  parts.  The  first  is,  a  collection  and  explication  of  all 
the  texts  in  the  '<New  Testament,"  relating  to  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity;  in  the  second,  the  foregoing  doctrine  is  set  forth 
at  large,  and  explained  in  particular  and  distinct  propositions  ; 
and,  in  the  third,  the  principal  passages  of  the  liturgy  of  the 
Church  of  England,  relating  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinitj,  are 
considered.  Bishop  Hoadly  applauds  our  author's  method  of 
proceeding,  in  forming  his  sentiments  upon  so  important  a 
point :  he  knew,  (says  he,)  and  all  men  agreed,  that  it  was  a 
matter  of  mere  revelation.  He  had  not  recourse  to  abstract 
and  metaphysical  reasonings  to  cover  or  patronise  any  system 
he  might  have  embraced  before.  But,  as  a  Christian,  he  laid 
open  the  New  Testament  before  him.  He  searched  out  every 
text,  in  which  mention  was  made  of  the  three  persons  or  any 
one  of  them.  He  accurately  examined  the  meaning  of  the 
words  about  every  one  of  them  ;  and  by  the  best  rules  of  gram- 
mar and  critique,  and  by  his  skill  in  language,  he  endeavoured 
to  fix  plainly  what  was  declared  about  every  person,  and  what 
was  not.  And  what  he  thought  to  be  the  truth,  he  published 
under  the  title  of  "  The  Scripture  Doctrine  of  the  Trinity." 
The  bishop  adds,  that  "every  Christian  divine  and  layman 
ought  to  pay  his  thanks  to  Dr.  Clarke  for  the  method  into  which 
he  brought  his  dispute  ;  and  for  that  collection  of  texts  of  the 
New  Testament,  by  which  at  last  it  must  be  decided,  on  which 
side  soever  the  truth  may  be  supposed  to  lie."  This  work  not 
only  occasioned  a  great  number  of  books  and  pamphlets  to  be 
written  against  it,  but  made  its  author  obnoxious  to  the  power 
ecclesiastical,  and  his  book  to  be  complained  of  by  the  Lower 
House  of  Convention.  The  doctor  drew  up  a  preface,  and 
afterwards  gave  in  several  explanations,  which  seemed  to  satisfy 
the  Upper  House ;  at  least  the  aff'air  was  not  brought  ;to  any 


SAMUEL  CLARKE.  497 

issue,  the  members  appearing  desirous  to  prevent  dissensions. 
In  1715  and  1716,  he  had  a  dispute  with  the  celebrated  Leib- 
nitz, relating  to  the  principles  of  natural  philosophy  and  reli- 
gion ;  and  a  collection  of  the  papers  which  passed  between  them 
was  published  in  1717.  This  performance  is  inscribed  to  Queen 
Caroline,  then  Princess  of  Wales.  It  related  chiefly  to  the  dif 
ficult  subjects  of  liberty  and  necessity.  In  1718,  Dr.  Clarke 
made  an  alteration  in  the  forms  of  doxology  in  the  singing 
psalms,  which  produced  no  small  noise,  and  occasioned  some 
pamphlets  to  be  written.     The  alteration  was  this : 

"  To  God,  througli  Christ,  his  only  Son, 

Immortal  glory  be,"  &c. — and 
"  To  God,  through  Christ,  his  Son,  our  Lord, 

All  glory  be  therefore,"  &c. 

A  considerable  number  of  these  select  psalms  and  hymns  hav- 
ing been  dispersed  by  the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian 
Knowledge,  before  the  alteration  of  the  doxologies  was  taken 
notice  of,  he  was  charged  with  a  design  of  imposing  upon  the 
society;  whereas,  in  truth,  the  edition  of  them  had  been  pre- 
pared by  him  for  the  use  of  his  own  parish  only,  before  the 
society  had  thoughts  of  purchasing  any  of  the  copies ;  and  as 
the  usual  forms  of  doxology  are  not  established  by  any  legal 
authority,  ecclesiastical  or  civil,  in  this  he  had  not  offended. 
About  this  time,  he  was  presented  by  Lord  Lechmere,  the  chan- 
cellor of  the  Duchy  of  Lancaster,  to  the  mastership  of  Wig- 
ston's  Hospital  in  Leicester.  In  1724,  he  published  seventeen 
sermons,  eleven  of  which  were  never  before  printed ;  and  in 
1725,  another  upon  the  erecting  of  a  charity  school  for  the 
education  of  women  servants.  In  1727,  upon  the  death  of  Sir 
Isaac  Newton,  he  was  offered  by  the  court,  the  place  of  master 
of  the  Mint,  worth  from  ^£1200  to  £1500  a  year.  But  this, 
being  a  secular  preferment,  he  absolutely  refused.  Whiston 
takes  this  to  be  one  of  the  most  glorious  actions  of  his  life,  and 
to  afford  undeniable  conviction,  that  he  was  in  earnest  in  his 
religion.  In  1728,  was  published,  <<  A  Letter  from  Dr.  Clarke 
to  Mr.  Benjamin  Hoadly,  F.  R.  S.,  occasioned  by  the  contro- 
versy relating  to  the  Proportion  of  Velocity  and  Force  in 
Bodies  in  motion  ;"  and  printed  in  the  Philosophical  Transac- 
tions, No.  401.  In  1729,  he  published  the  first  twelve  books 
of  "Hosier's  Iliad;"  in  quarto.  The  Latin  version  is  almost 
63  2  T  2 


498  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

entirely  new  ;  and  annotations  are  added  to  it.  Homer,  Bishop 
Hoadly  tells  us,  was  Clarke's  admired  author,  even  to  a  degree 
of  enthusiasm,  hardly  natural  to  his  temper.  "  The  transla- 
tion," adds  the  bishop,  "  with  his  corrections,  may  now  be  styled 
accurate ;  and  his  notes,  so  far  as  they  go,  are  indeed  a  trea- 
sur^^  of  grammatical  and  critical  knowledge.  He  was  called  to 
his  task  by  royal  command ;  and  he  has  performed  it  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  be  worthy  of  the  young  prince  for  whom  it  was 
laboured."  The  year  of  this  publication  was  the  last  of  this 
great  man's  life.  Though  not  robust,  he  had  always  enjoyed  a 
firm  state  of  health,  without  any  indisposition  that  confined  him, 
except  the  small-pox  in  his  youth ;  till,  on  Sunday,  May  11, 
1729,  going  out  in  the  morning  to  preach  before  the  judges  at 
Serjeant's  Inn,  he  was  seized  with  a  pain  in  his  side,  which 
quickly  became  so  violent,  that  he  was  obliged  to  be  carried 
home.  He  went  to  bed,  and  thought  himself  so  much  better  in 
the  afternoon,  that  he  would  not  suffer  himself  to  be  bled. 
But  the  pain  returning  violently  about  two  the  next  morning, 
made  bleeding  absolutely  necessary ;  he  appeared  to  be  out  of 
danger,  and  continued  to  think  himself  so,  till  the  Saturday 
morning  following ;  when  the  pain  removed  from  his  side  to  his 
head ;  and  deprived  him  of  his  senses.  He  continued  breath- 
ing till  between  seven  or  eight  that  evening,  May  17, 1729  ;  and 
then  died,  in  his  fifty-fourth  year.  Soon  after  his  death  were 
published  from  his  original  MSS.,  by  his  brother.  Dr.  John 
Clarke,  "An  Exposition  of  the  Church  Catechism,"  and  ten 
volumes  of  sermons,  in  octavo.  Few  discourses  are  more  judi- 
cious, and  fewer  still  are  equally  instructive.  The  reasoning 
and  the  practical  parts  are  excellent,  and  the  explanations  of 
Scripture  are  uncommonly  valuable.  Three  years  after  the 
doctor's  death,  appeared  also  the  last  twelve  books  of  the  Iliad, 
published  in  quarto  by  his  son,  Mr.  Samuel  Clarke.  Dr.  Clarke 
married  Catharine,  the  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Lockwood, 
rector  of  Little  Missingham  in  Norfolk,  with  whom  he  lived 
happy  till  his  death ;  and  by  whom  he  had  seven  children.  In 
the  various  branches  of  useful  knowledge  and  critical  learning, 
he  was  perhaps  without  an  equal ;  in  all  united,  certainly  with- 
out a  superior :  in  his  works,  the  best  defender  of  religion  ;  in 
his  practice,  the  greatest  ornament  to  it :  in  his  conversation 
communicative  and  instructive :  in  his  preaching  and  writings. 


SAMUEL   CLARKE.  499 

strong,  clear,  and  calm ;  in  his  life,  high  in  the  esteem  of  the 
wise,  the  good,  and  the  great ;  in  his  death,  lamented  by  every 
friend  to  learning,  truth,  and  virtue.  Dr.  Clarke  was  of  a  very 
humane  and  tender  disposition.  When  his  young  children 
amused  themselves  with  killing  flies,  he  calmly  reasoned  with 
them,  in  such  a  familiar  manner  as  was  calculated  to  make  a 
powerful  impression  upon  their  minds.  He  was  very  conde- 
scending in  answering  scruples  ;  numbei"less  instances  of  which 
occurred  in  the  course  of  his  life.  He  was  peculiarly  cautious 
not  to  lose  the  least  minute  of  his  time.  He  always  carried 
some  book  with  him,  which  he  would  read  while  riding  in  a 
coach,  or  walking  in  the  fields,  or  when  he  had  any  leisure  mo- 
ments free  from  company  or  study.  Nay,  he  would  read  even 
in  company,  where  he  might  take  such  a  liberty  without  offence 
to  good  manners.  His  memory  was  remarkably  strong.  He 
never  forgot  any  thing  which  he  had  once  thoroughly  appre- 
hended and  understood.  He  was  of  a  cheerful,  and  even  play- 
ful disposition.  Once,  when  the  two  Dr.  Clarkes,  Mr.  Bott,  and 
several  men  of  ability  and  learning  were  together,  and  amusing 
themselves  with  diverting  tricks.  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke  looking  out 
of  the  window,  saw  a  grave  blockhead  approaching  to  the  house ; 
upon  which  he  cried  out,  "Boys,  boys,  be  wise,  here  comes  a 
fool."  This  turn  of  mind  has  been  censured,  but  in  Dr.  Clarke 
we  can  hardly  consider  it  as  a  frailty.  To  be  possessed  of  such 
a  temper,  must  have  been  no  small  degree  of  happiness ;  as  it 
probably  enabled  him  to  pursue  his  important  and  serious  stu- 
dies with  greater  vigour.  To  be  capable  of  deriving  amusement 
from  trivial  circumstances,  indicates  a  heart  at  ease,  and  may 
generally  be  regarded  as  the  concomitant  rf  virtue,  especially 
in  a  person  devoted  to  study. 


600 


LIVES  OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JOHN  OWEN, 


AMOUS  among  the  Puritans  of  England,  was 
born  in  1616,  and  died  1683.  After  study- 
ing at  Oxford  for  the  church  of  England, 
he  became  a  Presbyterian,  but  finally  joined 
the  Independents.  He  was  highly  esteemed 
by  the  parliament  which  executed  the  king, 
and  was  frequently  called  upon  to  preach 
l^efore  them.  Cromwell,  in  particular,  was  so 
highly  pleased  with  him,  that,  when  going  to 
Ireland,  he  insisted  on  Dr.  Owen  accompanying 
him,  for  the  purpose  of  regulating  and  superin- 
tending the  college  of  Dublin.  After  spending 
X  months  in  that  city,  Owen  returned  to  his  clerical 
ties  in  England,  from  which,  however,  he  was 
in  speedily  called  away  by  Cromwell,  who  took 
him,  in  1650,  to  Edinburgh,  where  he  spent  six  months. 
Subsequently  he  was  promoted  to  the  deanery  of  Christ 
Church  college  in  Oxford,  and  soon  after,  to  the  vice-chan- 
cellorship of  the  university,  which  ofiSces  he  held  till  Crom- 
well's death.  After  the  Restoration,  he  was  favoured  by 
Lord  Clarendon,  who  offered  him  a  preferment  in  the  church 
if  he  would  conform ;  but  this  the  principles  of  Dr.  Owen  did 
not  permit  him  to  do.  The  persecutions  of  the  nonconformists 
repeatedly  disposed  him  to  emigrate  to  New  England,  but 
attachment  to  his  native  country  prevailed.  Notwithstanding 
his  decided  hostility  to  the  church,  the  amiable  dispositions 
and  agreeable  manners  of  Dr.  Owen  procured  him  much  es- 
teem from  many  eminent  churchmen,  among  whom  was  the 
king  himself,  who,  on  one  occasion,  sent  for  him,  and,  after  a 
conversation  of  two  hours,  gave  him  a  thousand  guineas  to  be 
distributed  among  those  who  had  suffered  most  from  the  recent 
persecution.      He  was  a   man  of  extensive   learning,  and  most 


JOHN   OWEN.  501 

estimable  character.  As  a  preacher,  he  was  eloquent  and 
graceful,  and  displayed  a  degree  of  moderation  and  liberality 
not  very  common  among  the  sectaries  with  whom  he  was  asso- 
ciated. His  extreme  industry  is  evinced  by  the  voluminousness 
of  his  publications,  which  amount  to  no  fewer  than  seven 
volumes  in  folio,  twenty  in  quarto,  and  about  thirty  in  octavo. 
Among  these  are  a  collection  of  ''Sermons,"  "An  Exposition 
on  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,"  "A  Discourse  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,"  and  <'  The  Divine  Original  and  Authority  of  the  Scrip- 
tures." 


502 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


ROBERT  LOWTH, 


ON  of  Dr.  William  Lowth,  the  author  of  the 
"  Commentaries  on  the  Prophets,"  and  other 
works,  was  burn  on  the  29th  of  Nov.  1710. 
He  studied  at  Winchester  college,  where  his 
exercises  were  distinguished  by  uncommon 
elegance;  and  in  1730  he  went  to  New  College, 
Oxford,  where  he  continued  his  studies,  and  took 
the  degree  of  M.  A.,  June  8,  1737.  In  1741,  he 
was  elected  by  the  university  professor  of  Hebrew 
poetry,  re-elected  in  1743,  and  while  he  held  that 
office,  he  read  his  admirable  lectures  ''De  sacra  poesi 
Hebrseorum."  In  1744  Bishop  Hoadly  appointed 
him  rector  of  Ovington  in  Hants ;  in  1750,  arch- 
deacon of  Winchester,  and  rector  of  East  Weedhay  in 
1753.  Ill  1754,  the  university  created  him  D.  D.  by 
diploma  ;  an  honour  never  granted  but  to  distinguished 
Having,  in  1749,  travelled  with  Lord  George  and  Lord 
Frederick  Cavendish,  in  1755,  the  late  duke  being  lord-lieuten- 
ant of  Ireland,  Dr.  Lowth  went  to  that  kingdom  as  his  grace's 
first  chaplain.  Soon  after  this,  he  was  offered  the  bishopric  of 
Limerick  ;  but  preferring  a  less  dignified  station  in  his  own 
country,  he  exchanged  it  with  Dr.  Leslie,  prebendary  of  Durham 
and  rector  of  Sedgefield,  for  these  preferments.  In  Nov.  1765, 
he  was  chosen  F.  R.  S.  In  June,  1766,  he  was,  on  the  death 
of  Dr.  Squire,  raised  to  the  see  of  St.  David's  ;  which,  in  October 
he  resigned  for  that  of  Oxford.  In  April,  1777,  he  was  trans- 
lated to  the  see  of  London,  on  the  death  of  Bishop  Terrick ; 
and  in  1783,  he  declined  the  offer  of  the  primacy  of  all  England. 
Having  been  long  afflicted  with  the  stone,  which  he  bore  with 
the  most  exemplary  fortitude,  he  died  at  Fulham,  Nov.  3,  1787. 
He  had  married  in  1752,  Mary,  daughter  of  Laurence  Jackson, 


•nerit. 


ROBERT  LOWTH.  508 

Esq.  of  Christ-church,  Hants,  by  whom  he  had  two  sons  and 
five  daughters  ;  of  whom  two  and  his  lady  survived  him. 

His  literary  character  may  be  estimated  from  the  value  and 
the  importance  of  his  works.  Besides  his  "Prelections  on  the 
Hebrew  Poetry,"  which  have  been  read  with  applause  abroad 
and  at  home,  and  the  Latinity  of  which  is  equal  to  that  of  Bu- 
chanan in  classical  purity,  he  published,  in  1758,  "The  Life  of 
William  of  Wykeham,  Bishop  of  Winchester,"  with  a  dedication 
to  Bishop  Hoadly ;  which  involved  him  in  a  dispute  concern- 
ing a  decision  which  that  bishop  had  made  respecting  the  war- 
denship  of  Winchester  college.  This  controversy  was  on  both 
sides  carried  on  with  such  abilities,  that,  tho.ugh  relating  to  a 
private  concern,  it  may  still  be  read  with  pleasure  and  improve- 
ment. The  life  of  Wykeham  is  drawn  from  the  most  authentic 
sources ;  and  affords  much  information  concerning  the  manners 
and  transactions  of  the  period  in  which  Wykeham  lived,  as  well 
as  respecting  the  two  literary  societies  of  which  he  was  the 
founder,  and  in  which  Dr.  Lowth  was  educated.  In  1762  was 
first  published  his  "Short  Introduction  to  English  Grammar," 
which  has  since  gone  through  many  editions.  It  was  originally 
designed  only  for  domestic  use;  but  its  judicious  remarks  being 
too  v^aluable  to  be  confined  to  a  few,  the  book  was  given  to  the 
world ;  and  the  excellence  of  its  method,  which  teaches  what  is 
right  by  showing  what  is  wrong,  has  insured  public  approbation 
and  very  general  use.  In  1765,  Dr.  Lowth  was  engaged  with 
Bishop  Warburton  in  a  controversy  which  made  so  much  noise 
at  the  time  that  it  even  attracted  the  notice  of  royalty.  In 
1778,  he  published  his  last  great  work,  "A  Translation  of 
Isaiah,"  which  proved  adequate  to  the  highest  expectations  of 
the  public.  Several  occasional  discourses  were  also  published, 
worthy  of  their  author.  Among  these,  one  on  the  "  Kingdom 
of  God,"  on  the  extension  and  progressive  improvement  of 
Christ's  religion,  and  on  the  means  of  promoting  these  by  the 
advancement  of  religious  knowledge,  by  freedom  of  inquiry,  by 
toleration  and  mutual  charity,  has  been  much  admired  as  exhibit- 
ing a  most  comprehensive  view  of  the  successive  states  of  the 
Christian  church.  Of  his  poetical  pieces,  none  display  greater 
merit  than  "Verses  on  the  Genealogy  of  Christ,"  and  "  The 
Choice  of  Hercules,"  both  written  very  early  in  his  life.  He 
wrote  a  spirited  "Imitation  of  an  Ode  of  Horace,"   applied  to 


501  LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

the  alarming  situation  of  Britain  in  1745,  and  some  '•  \^erses  oiv 
the  death  of  Frederick  Prince  of  Wales,"  with  a  few  smaller 
poems.  Learning  and  taste,  however,  did  not  constitute  Bishop 
Lowth's  highest  excellence.  Eulogium  can  scarcely  ascend  too 
high,  in  speaking  of  him  either  as  a  private  man  or  a  Christian 
pastor.  His  amiable  manners  rendered  him  an  ornament  to  his 
station  while  they  endeared  him  to  all  with  whom  he  conversed  ; 
and  his  zeal  for  the  interest  of  religion  made  him  promote  to 
places  of  trust  and  dignity  such  clergymen  as  he  knew  were  best 
qualified  to  fill  them.  To  the  world  he  was  a  benefit  by  his 
splendid  abilities ;  and  while  virtue  and  learning  are  esteemed, 
the  memory  of  Lowth  will  be  respected. 


CLAUDIUU   BUCHAJSAIS. 


505 


CLAUDIUS  BUCHANAN. 


LAUDIUS  BUCHANAN  was  born  at  Cam- 
buslang,  near  Glasgow,  and  when  seven  years 
old  entered  the  grammar-school  of  Inverary, 
of  which  his  father  was  principal.  He  re- 
mained there  six  years.  When  fourteen,  he 
became  tutor  to  the  two  sons  of  Mr.  Campbell, 
of  Dunstafnage.  During  this  period,  he  ap- 
pears to  have  thought  seriously  on  the  subject 
of  religion,  and  was  assisted  in  devotional  duties 
by  his  grandfather;  but,  as  he  advanced  toward 
manhood,  these  serious  thoughts  were,  through  the 
influence  of  company,  almost  entirely  obliterated. 
In  1782,  he  entered  Glasgow  College ;  left  it  two 
years  after,  and  returned  in  1786,  in  which  year  he 
i-eceived  a  creditable  certificate  from  the  professor  of 
logic.  At  the  age  of  twenty-one,  he  became  attached  to 
a  young  lady,  much  superior  to  him  in  fortune ;  and  the  desire 
of  obtaining  her  led  him  to  adopt  the  rather  singular  resolution 
of  visiting  the  Continent,  travelling  through  it  on  foot,  and  by 
some  means  raise  himself  to  a  rank  which  might  make  good  his 
claim  to  her  hand.  By  deceiving  his  parents  with  a  specious 
tale,  he  obtained  their  consent  to  depart ;  and  in  1787  left 
Edinburgh  on  foot,  trusting  to  his  imperfect  knowledge  of  the 
violin  to  obtain  subsistence  by  the  way.  In  about  a  month,  he 
arrived  at  London,  so  exhausted  by  hunger  and  distress  that 
he  determined  on  abandoning  his  journey  to  the  Continent. 
Having  neither  money  nor  employment,  and  resolved  not  to  go 
back  to  his  parents,  he  was  obliged  to  sell  his  books  and  cloth- 
ing in  order  to  obtain  a  meagre  subsistence.  He  lay  on  the 
bare  ground,  and  sometimes  had  not  bread  to  eat.  From  this 
cor.dition  he  was  relieved  by  becoming  clerk  to  an  attorney : 


64 


2U 


506  U\ES   OF   EMINENT   OH^TSTIANS. 

and  afterwards  he  engaged  with  a  solicitor,  witii  whom  he  re^ 
mained  three  years.  During  this  time,  he  corresponded  with 
liis  friends  at  home,  writing  fictitious  places  and  dates,  and 
giving  his  mother  pleasing  accounts  of  his  health  and  situation. 
He  appears  to  have  lived  improvidentlj,  being  often  obliged  to 
pawn  his  clothes  and  other  necessary  articles,  in  order  to  raise 
money  to  visit  theatres,  attend  debating  societies,  or  even  to 
obtain  a  meal. 

Meanwhile  his  father  had  died.  Buchanan  was  little  affected 
by  intelligence  of  the  event ;  and  indeed  at  this  period  and  two 
years  after,  he  may  be  described  as  a  careless  and  dissolute 
young  man.  But  in  1790,  his  early  religious  impressions  Avere 
revived  by  an  apparent  accident.  A  gentleman  of  sincere  piety 
called  upon  him  one  Sabbath  evening,  and  out  of  courtesy  Bu- 
chanan gave  the  conversation  a  religious  turn.  '<  I  asked  him 
whether  he  believed  there  was  such  a  thing  as  divine  grace ;  whe- 
ther or  not  it  was  a  fiction  imposed  by  grave  and  austere  persons 
from  their  own  fancies."  The  reply  was  earnest  and  powerful. 
Buchanan  passed  the  night  in  distress;  and  during  seven  months, 
as  he  writes  in  his  diary,  he  prayed  continually  for  a  new  heart 
and  a  more  thorough  discovery  of  sin.  In  this  condition  ne 
wrote  to  his  mother  for  advice,  and  was  recommended  by  her  to 
Mr.  Newton,  Rector  of  St.  Mary's,  London.  Through  the 
exhortations  and  advice  of  this  excellent  man,  he  was  greatly 
strengthened ;  after  a  long  period  of  doubt,  fear,  and  self-accu- 
sation, he  was  introduced  to  a  state  of  peace  and  joy ;  and  his 
heart  was  now  nerved  with  that  energy  and  true  ambition,  which 
afterwards  produced  such  splendid  results.  He  now  turned  his 
attention  to  the  ministry,  for  which  his  parents  had  designed 
him  from  his  infancy ;  but,  as  a  preparatory  step,  he  addressed 
to  his  mother  a  full  statement  of  his  condition  from  the  time  of 
leaving  Scotland,  begged  her  forgiveness,  and  requested  lur 
advice.  The  letter  filled  her  with  joy,  she  encouraged  him 
warmly  to  proceed,  and  at  the  expense  of  a  friend,  Mr.  Henry 
Thornton,  he  was  placed  at  Cambridge  University.  His  career 
at  that  venerable  spot  was  brilliant.  On  the  20th  of  Septem- 
ber, 1795,  he  was  ordained  by  Bishop  Porteus ;  next  year  he 
received  priests'  orders  from  the  Bishop  of  London,  and  as  he 
had  already  decided  on  a  mission  to  India,  he  went  in  the  month 
of  May  tc  visH  his  mother.     Here  he  spent  but  two  or  three 


CLAUDIUS   BUCHANAN.  507 

weeks,  and  then  prepared  for  his  departure.  In  the  following 
August  he  sailed  for  Bengal. 

During  the  voyage,  Buchanan  acted  as  instructor  to  the  crew — 
a  situation  which  afforded  him  opportunities  to  converse  much 
upon  the  nature  and  obligations  of  true  religion.  On  reaching 
Calcutta,  he  was  welcomed  by  the  Rev,  Mr.  Brown,  with  whose 
family  he  resided  a  short  time.  He  afterwards  became  chaplain 
at  Barrackpore,  where,  as  there  was  no  church,  he  held  divine 
service  in  his  house,  as  often  as  his  engagement  as  army  chap- 
lain permitted.  During  this  period,  he  prosecuted  his  studies 
with  ardour,  and  seems  to  have  devoted  special  attention  to  elo- 
cution as  applied  to  the  Hindoo  languages.  In  April,  1799,  he 
married  Miss  Mary  \yhish,  an  amiable  young  lady  about  nine- 
teen. This  change  in  his  domestic  condition  was  a  happy  one, 
and  he  complained  no  more  of  his  lonely  life  at  Barrackpore. 
In  the  following  year,  he  was  appointed  vice-prevost  of  the  new 
college,  founded  by  Lord  Wellesley,  for  instructing  the  young 
civil  students  in  Eastern  literature  and  general  learning.  Ho 
was  also  appointed  professor  of  Greek,  Latin,  and  English 
classics,  with  two  hundred  students  under  his  care.  Courses  ii; 
the  Arabic,  Hindostanee,  and  Persian  languages  were  also  esta- 
blished. In  a  little  time,  nearly  the  whole  labour  of  the  college, 
as  well  as  of  all  the  neighbouring  churches,  devolved  upon  Bu- 
chanan ;  besides  which,  he  generally  preached  once  or  twice  on 
Sunday  at  the  churches  in  Calcutta.  In  the  ye^r  1802,  hi? 
income  became  greatly  increased,  and  he  nobly  requested  hi.' 
mother  to  draw  annually  upon  him  for  the  sum  of  three  hundrec 
pounds.  Previous  to  this,  the  approach  of  consumption  had 
obliged  his  wife  to  retitrn  to  England  with  her  youngest  child, 
so  that  the  missionary  could  devote  more  time  to  his  numerous 
duties. 

Amid  this  tide  of  labour  and  prosperity,  orders  were  received 
from  England  for  the  immediate  abolition  of  the  college.  The 
despatch  was  communicated  by  Lord  Wellesley  to  Bjichanan, 
with  a  request  that  he  would  consider  upon  a  reply  to  the  rea- 
sons upon  which  the  order  was  founded.  An  able  defence  was 
drawn  up ;  it  was  found  impossible  to  demolish  the  college  at 
once;  the  studies  went  on  as  usual;  and  in  1803  Wellesley  pre- 
sided at  the  second  annual  disputation.  For  the  first  time, 
declamations  were  pronounced  in  the  Arabic  language ;  prizes 


^08  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

and  rewards  for  oriental  and  classical  learning  were  distributed;, 
and  the  president  delivered  an  able  speech,  in  which  he  declared 
that  the  institution  had  answered  his  most  sanguine  hopes,  and 
that  its  administration  had  been  conducted  with  honour  and 
credit,  as  well  as  with  great  advantage  to  the  public  service. 
During  the  same  year,  Buchanan  despatched  letters  to  the  vice- 
chancellors  and  principals  of  the  universities  in  the  United 
Kingdom,  offering  prizes  to  the  amount  of  fifteen  hundred 
pounds  for  essays  and  poems,  connected  with  the  civilization 
and  moral  improvement  of  India.  In  November,  he  first  com^ 
municated  his  thoughts  concerning  the  establishment  of  an 
ecclesiastical  system  in  India  to  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
Soon  after,  permission  was  received  from  England  for  the  col- 
lege to  continue  on  its  original  footing.  About  the  same  time, 
Buchanan  ably  refuted  the  arguments  of  those  who  opposed  the 
translation  of  the  Bible  into  the  oriental  languages  ;  and  his 
first  versions  of  the  gospels  in  Persian  and  Hindostanee  were 
issued  from  the  press  of  the  College  of  Fort  William.  Flatter- 
ing results  of  his  unwearied  labours  began  to  appear  in  England. 
Prize  compositions  of  great  merit  appeared  in  various  quarters. 
Learned  men  in  Europe,  hitherto  secluded  and  almost  unknown, 
turned  their  attention  to  oriental  literature  and  improvement ; 
and  his  memoir  on  the  expediency  of  an  ecclesiastical  establish- 
ment for  British  India  was  extensively  circulated,  and  produced 
considerable  impression  upon  the  public  mind. 

Yet  this  prosperity  was  not  unalloyed  with  sorrow.  Mary, 
his  young  wife,  had  returned  from  England,  greatly  benefited 
in  health ;  but  soon  after,  consumptive  symptoms  of  an  alarming 
nature  again  appeared.  At  the  close  of  -autumn,  her  return  to 
England  was  considered  indispensable.  Their  parting  was  a 
mournful  one,  and  they  never  met  again.  Buchanan  received 
intelligence  of  her  death  while  engaged  in  Hebrew,  Syriac,  and 
Chaldaic  studies  at  Sooksagur.  The  calmness  with  which  he 
relates  that  event  may  strike  us  as  rather  singular.  *<  While  I 
was  thus  engaged,  the  news  of  Mary's  death  arrived.  I  found 
some  consolation  in  writing  a  few  lines  to  her  memory,  which  I 
Inscribed  on  a  leaf  of  her  own  Bible ;  the  best  monument  I 
could  erect ;  for  her  body  is  buried  in  the  deep.  I  sometimes 
think  that  had  I  ny  two  little  girls  to  play  with,  I  should  be 
happy  even  in  this  dreary  land.     My  chief  solace  is  in  a  min 


CLAUDIUS   BUCHANAN.  50^ 

constantly  employed  ;  and  this  is  the  greatest  temporal  blessing 
I  can  expect,  even  unto  the  end.  I  could  relate  to  you  scenes 
of  tribulation  and  keen  persecution  in  regard  to  myself  and 
others ;  but  these  could  give  you  no  pleasure,  and  I  wish  not  to 
think  of  them." 

Buchanan's  ««  Christian  Researches"  are  the  imbodiment  of 
his  adventures  and  labours,  during  a  journey  to  the  South  of 
India  in  the  period  succeeding  that  of  his  wife's  death.  His 
life  during  this  journey  was  a  most  singular  one — uniting  the 
self-denying  perseverance  of  a  Christian  missionary  with  the 
wild  adventures  of  a  Bengal  hunter.  Sometimes  mounted  on 
an  elephant,  at  others  borne  in  a  palanquin,  he  visited  the  vari- 
ous churches  in  his  route,  preached  to  the  natives,  and  corrected 
such  errors  or  difficulties  as  were  submitted  to  his  decision.  His 
principal  opposition  arose  from  the  efforts  of  the  Roman  Catho- 
lics. At  Mavelycar  he  proposed  to  send  a  standard  translation 
of  the  Scriptures  in  Malayalim  to  each  of  their  fifty-five  churches, 
provided  the  copies  would  be  multiplied  for  circulation  among 
the  people.  "  How  (replied  the  aged  priest)  shall  we  know  that 
your  western  Bible  is  the  same  as  ours?"  Buchanan  replied 
that  he  had  a  copy  which  they  might  examine,  and  after  some 
consultation  it  was  proposed  that  the  third  chapter  of  St.  Mat- 
thew's gospel  should  be  critically  compared,  word  for  word,  in 
the  Eastern  Syrian,  Western  Syrian,  and  English.  "It  was  an 
interesting  scene  to  me  (says  Buchanan)  to  behold  the  ancient 
English  Bible  thus  brought  before  the  tribunal  of  these  simple 
Christians  in  the  hills  of  Malabar.  At  last,  they  were  satisfied 
that  it  was  a  true  and  faithful  translation.  As  for  the  Western 
Syrian,  it  agreed  with  the  Eastern  nearly  word  for  word.  They 
now  determined  that  one  of  the  priests  and  one  of  the  elders 
should  accompany  me  to  the  other  churches."  Buchanan  also 
visited  the  Romish  churches,  and  appears  to  have  been  on 
friendly  terms  with  the  Jesuits. 

Meanwhile,  the  college  at  Calcutta  had  been  suffered  to  de- 
cline, so  that  on  his  return  'to  it,  Buchanan  found  his  income 
and  influence  greatly  diminished.  But  his  journey  to  India,  and 
especially  his  discovery  of  the  Syrian  church,  spread  his  repu- 
tation throughout  Christendom.  In  1808,  he  visited  the  Papal 
Inquisition  at  Goa,  but  failed  in  his  demand  to  see  the  dungeons 
and  places  of  torture.      Soon  after,  he  set  sail  for  England,  and 

2u2 


511  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIAN b. 

ill  the  same  year  (1808)  arrived  at  London.  "  I  have  no  thought 
(he  writes)  of  ever  returning  to  India  again.  My  wish  is  to 
take  a  cure  of  souls,  and  to  grow  old  preaching  the  gospel.  I 
have  not  lived  with  my  mother  these  twenty  years,  a  fortnight 
excepted.  I  have  a  long  arrear  of  filial  affection  and  personal 
attention  to  bring  up,  and  must  first  fulfil  this  duty."  In  Feb- 
ruary, he  preached  at  St.  James'  Church,  Bristol,  his  celebrated 
sermon,  entitled  the  ««Star  in  the  East."  To  the  University  of 
Cambridge  he  presented  his  valuable  collection  of  oriental  manu- 
scripts, twenty-five  in  number,  written  in  the  Hebrew,  Syriac, 
and  Ethiopic  languages. 

Early  in  1810,  Buchanan  married  a  daughter  of  Henry 
Thompson,  Esq.,  of  Yorkshire.  Here  he  afterwards  fixed  his 
residence,  and  took  upon  himself  the  whole  charge  of  the  parish 
of  Ouseburn.  In  the  same  year  he  published  his  "Jubilee  Ser- 
mons." But  a  sad  and  painful  trial  was  approaching.  Early 
in  1811,  he  was  suddenly  struck  by  paralysis,  which  afi'ected 
his  voice  and  right  hand.  Thus  partially  cut  off"  from  the  sources 
of  his  highest  pleasure,  he  resolved  on  a  course  which  evinces  in 
a  remarkable  degree  his  inclination  for  bold  and  active  labour. 
This  was  a  visit  to  Palestine,  for  the  purpose  of  examining  its 
language  and  the  condition  of  the  churches.  His  friends  endea- 
/oured  to  dissuade  him ;  but  their  efi*orts  were  vain,  and  he  fi^ed 
the  following  February  for  the  commencement  of  his  journey. 
A  second  stroke  of  paralysis  frustrated  his  plans.  Still  his 
ardour  in  the  cause  of  oriental  improvement  did  not  abate,  and 
he  employed  his  remaining  strength  in  superintending  the  edi- 
tion of  the  Syriac  New  Testament,  printed  by  the  British  and 
Foreign  Bible  Society.  While  thus  engaged,  his  second  wife  died, 
and  he  took  a  temporary  residence  in  Hertfordshire,  near  the 
printer  of  the  Syriac  Testament.  But  gradually  his  strength 
declined ;  the  time  of  his  departure  was  approaching.  On  the 
night  of  February,  1815,  he  retired  to  rest  as  usual,  having  none 
but  a  servant  in  the  chamber.  At  midnight,  a  third  stroke  of 
paralysis  terminated  his  existence,  without  a  struggle  or  a  groan. 
He  was  but  forty-nine  years  old.  Few  men  in  the  field  of  mis- 
sionary labour  have  met  with  more  splendid  success  than  Bu- 
chanan. Friends  surrounded  him  in  every  station  of  life ;  wealth 
and  reputation  seemed  to  flow  at  his  touch  ;  and  the  career  of 
his  success  and  prosperity  flowed  brighter  and  broader,  from 


CLAUDIUS    BL  OH  AN  AN.  611 

his  entrance  into  Cambridge,  until  near  the  close  of  his  life. 
Perhaps  this  is  the  cause  why  we  admire  his  exertions  rather 
than  sympathize  with  them.  They  possess  no  vein  of  intrinsic 
feeling — of  deep  melancholy — coming  from  the  heart  and  reach- 
ing to  it,  as  doth  the  labours  of  Ziesberger  and  Brainerd.  He 
enlisted  comrades  in  his  cause,  by  exciting  ambition  rather  than 
devotion. 

Mr.  Carne  thus  sums  up  the  character  of  Buchanan: — '<In 
the  two  and  paramount  pursuits  of  his  life,  oriental  learnings 
and  the  better  religious  instruction  of  India,  he  was  singularly 
successful ;  it  cannot  be  said  that  disappointment,  self-denial, 
or  the  anguish  of  hope  deferred,  were  his  lot ;  of  the  stern  dif- 
ficulties and  dangers  of  the  earlier  missionaries  he  knew  but 
little.  The  sorrows  that  were  given  him,  were  not  of  the  world : 
friends,  patrons,  wealth,  and  distinction,  early  raised  Buchanan 
from  his  lowly  estate.  He  justified  the  most  sanguine  expecta- 
tions, either  as  vice-provost  of  the  College  of  Fort  William,  as 
minister  of  the  church  of  the  Presidency,  or  when  employing 
his  pen  in  his  various  literary  and  religious  compositions ;  for 
his  mind  was  acute,  comprehensive,  and  persevering,  his  appli- 
cation uuAvearied,  and  the  stores  of  his  learning  rich  and  various. 
.His  style  is  vigorous  and  clear,  but  often  sententious.  'The 
colouring  of  the  picturesque,  with  which  he  contributes  to  invest 
his  subject,'  as  an  admirer  says,  is  not  a  prominent  feature ;  for 
imagination  was  sparingly  given  to  Buchanan.  His  epistolary 
style  is  unhappy ;  it  does  not  flow  naturally,  or  with  any  grace 
or  beauty.  Even  when  religion  is  the  theme,  as  it  is  often  and 
anxiously,  there  is  a  mannerism  and  formality  of  expression 
wliich  much  diminish  its  power.  Why  is  it,  that,  while  perus- 
ing his  life,  we  feel  that  we  cannot  love  the  man  ?  Simply, 
from  the  absence  of  warmth  in  his  aifections,  and  of  unction, 
if  the  expression  may  be  allowed,  in  his  piety. 

"The  author  of  the  'Christian  Researches,'  has  left  an  im- 
perishable monument,  whose  brightness  time  will  only  augment; 
the  Episcopal  Establishment  in  India  owes  it  foundation  chiefly 
to  his  masterly  pen,  and  his  able  personal  exertions,  which  did 
not  cease,  even  when  the  dark  waters  of  death  were  closing 
around  him." 


^12 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


ANNE  HASSELTINE  JUDSON. 


RADFORD,  in  Massachusetts,  was  the  birth- 
place of  this  remarkable  and  interesting  wo- 
man. Mrs.  Judson's  early  life  gave  promise 
of  future  distinction  and  usefulness.  She 
possessed  a  persevering  mind,  ardent  feelings, 
and  a  love  for  travel  and  adventure.  Her 
'^^  love  of  reading  was  immoderate.  At  an  early 
age  she  entered  the  academy  at  Bradford,  where 
her  rapid  progress  elicited  the  admiration  and 
astonishment  of  her  acquaintances.  When  fifteen, 
ler  attention  was  turned  to  the  subject  of  religion  ; 
:s  inestimable  value  seems  to  have  been  at  once  'Jtr- 
folded  to  her.  "  Redeeming  love,"  says  an  intimate 
fiiend,  <■'•  was  now  her  favourite  theme.  One  might 
spend  days  with  her,  without  hearing  any  other  subject 
adverted  to.  The  throne  of  grace  was  her  early  and  late 
I  have  known  her  often  to  spend  cold  winter  evenings  in 
her  chamber  without  fire ;  yet  her  love  of  social  pleasures  was 
not  diminished.  Even  now  I  fancy  I  see  her,  with  strong  feel- 
ing depicted  on  her  countenance,  on  which  a  heart-felt  smile  so 
often  beamed." 

At  the  age  of  twenty.  Miss  Hasseltine  became  acquainted 
with  Mr.  Judson,  a  graduate  of  Brown  University,  who,  during 
the  period  of  their  acquaintance,  was  appointed  by  the  American 
Board  of  Foreign  Missions,  as  missionary  to  India.  In  Feb- 
ruary, 1812,  they  were  married,  and  immediately  sailed  for 
Calcutta.  Mrs.  Judson's  journal  expresses,  in  affecting  terms, 
the  feelings  which  rose  in  her  bosom  at  this  momentous  period, 
when  in  the  bloom  of  health  and  love,  she  bade  farewell  to  her 
native  land.  In  June,  the  missionaries  reached  Calcutta,  and 
were  immediately  invited  by  Dr.  Carey,  to  Serampore.  Ten 
days  after,  they  were  summoned  to  Calcutta,  where  an  order 


resort. 


ANNE   HASSELTINE   JUDSON.  513 

of  government  was  read  to  them,  to  quit  the  country  imme- 
diately. This  they  eluded ;  but  in  a  few  months  the  Bengal 
authorities  commanded  them  to  sail  immediately  for  England. 
They  now  resolved  to  escape  from  the  city,  and  proceeded  down 
the  river  separately  in  boats,  exposed  during  the  whole  time, 
without  any  shelter,  to  a  burning  sun.  They  met  at  a  tavern, 
where,  after  remaining  a  few  days,  they  obtained  permission  to 
embark  in  a  vessel  bound  for  Madras. 

Her  journal  at  this  time  exhibits  the  state  of  her  feelings. 
"  Can  I  forget  thee,  0  my  country  ?  Can  I  forget  the  parental 
roof,  and  the  loved  associates  of  my  life.  Never,  never  till  the 
pulse  ceases  to  beat,  and  the  heart  to  feel.  0  my  heavenly 
Father !  my  early,  my  present,  my  everlasting  friend  !  When 
prospects  are  dark  and  gloomy,  and  distressing  apprehensions 
^veigh  heavy  on  the  soul,  he  leads  me  to  feel  my  dependence  on 
him,  and  to  lean  on  the  bosom  of  infinite  love."  On  arriving 
at  the  Isle  of  France,  Mrs.  Judson  learned  the  death  of  her 
friend  and  former  schoolmate,  Harriet  Newell.  Soon  after,  in- 
formation was  received  that  the  Baptist  General  Convention  at 
Philadelphia  had  appointed  her  husband  and  herself  as  their 
missionaries,  with  permission  to  use  their  discretion  in  selecting 
a  field  of  labour.  This  was  joyful  tidings.  They  immediately 
sailed,  (May,  1813,)  for  Rangoon,  the  principal  port  of  the  Bur- 
•nan  empire,  where  they  arrived  in  July.  In  the  quiet  mission- 
house,  which  had  been  built  by  former  Christian  labourers,  the 
young  missionaries  found  a  home,  and  commenced  the  study  of 
the  native  language.  She  thus  describes  this  rather  discourag- 
ing labour.  "  Could  you  look  into  a  large  open  room,  you 
would  see  Mr.  Judson  bent  over  a  table  covered  with  Burman 
books,  with  his  teacher  at  his  side,  a  venerable  looking  man,  in 
his  sixtieth  year,  with  a  cloth  w^rapped  round  his  middle,  and  a 
handkerchief  round  his  head.  They  talk  and  chatter  all  day 
long,  with  hardly  any  cessation.  My  mornings  are  busily  em- 
ployed in  giving  orders  to  the  servants,  providing  food  for  the 
family,  &c.  At  ten,  my  teacher  comes,  when  you  might  see  me 
iu  an  upper  room,  at  one  side  of  my  study-table,  and  my  teachei 
at  the  other,  reading  Burman,  writing,  talking,  &c.  I  am  fre- 
quently obliged  to  speak  Burman  all  day." 

The  birth  of  a  son  interrupted  these  exercises.    All  the  long- 
ing ailection  for  thoac  whom  the  parents  had  left  in  their  own 


514  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

land  was  transferred  to  this  infant.  It  died;  and  after  the 
first  shock  had  passed  away,  the  desoLite  parents  resumed  their 
cheerless  study.  It  was  again  interrupted.  Through  excessive 
study,  perhaps  also  through  grief,  Mr.  Judson's  eyes  had  be- 
come so  weak,  and  liis  head  so  much  affected,  that  he  could  not 
look  into  a  book.  His  companion  was  obliged  to  nurse  him  day 
and  night :  and  in  that  duty  her  own  health  began  to  fail.  But 
in  October  they  were  cheered  by  the  arrival  of  two  auxiliary 
missionaries,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hough ;  and  Mr.  Judson,  who  had 
prepared  several  tracts  in  the  Burman  language,  was  presented 
by  Dr.  Carey,  of  Serampore,  with  a  printing  press,  types,  and 
apparatus.  Soon  after,  he  prepared  a  grammar,  and  an  edition 
of  three  hundred  copies  of  St.  Matthew's  gospel.  About  the 
same  time  the  natives  manifested  much  kindness ;  and  the 
viceroy's  wife  indulged  Mrs.  Judson  with  a  long  ride  through 
the  forest,  on  an  elephant. 

Meanwhile,  the  tracts  were  read  by  numbers,  some  of  whom 
visited  the  mission-house  to  inquire  more  particularly  about  the 
new  religion.  On  Sabbath,  a  company  of  fifteen  or  twenty 
females  collected  to  hear  Mrs.  Judson  read  and  explain  the 
Scriptures.  In  December,  1817,  Mr.  Judson  left  Rangoon  for 
Arracan,  in  order  to  recruit  his  health,  and  procure  one  of  the 
native  Christians  residing  there,  and  who  spoke  the  Burman 
language,  to  assist  him  in  his  first  attempts  to  preach.  The 
voyage  was  one  of  hardship  and  difficulty,  and  for  some  months 
it  was  believed  that  he  had  perished.  At  the  same  time  Mr. 
Hough  and  his  family  embarked  for  Bengal.  The  feelings  of 
the  young  wife,  thus  left  alone,  in  a  land  of  barbarians,  may  be 
imagined.  Unexpectedly,  after  an  absence  of  six  months,  her 
husband  returned.  He  was  now  sufficiently  master  of  the  lan- 
guage to  preach  publicly.  A  small  chapel  was  erected  on  the 
road  leading  to  one  of  the  principal  pagodas  ;  a  congregation 
of  about  fifteen  persons  assembled  ;  and  in  April,  1819,  the  first 
efi'ort  at  public  preaching  opened  a  new  era  in  the  history  of  the 
mission.  The  harvest  which  years  of  toil,  and  sickness,  and 
sorrow,  had  sowed  and  watered,  was  about  to  be  gathered.  The 
hour  of  baptizing  the  first  convert  was  an  hour  of  unutterable 
joy  to  the  missionaries.  Several  others  were  baptized  in  the 
river  at  sunset.  Five  thousand  additional  copies  of  the  tract 
on  the  Christian  religion  was  published  and  circulated. 


ANNE   HASSELTINE  JUDSON.  515 

But  this  bright  prospect  was  soon  clouded.  The  heathen 
authorities  denounced  death  as  the  penalty  of  conversion,  and 
the  natives  abandoned  their  visits  to  the  chapel.  The  mission- 
aries now  resolved  on  a  visit  to  the  emperor,  by  whose  permis- 
sion alone,  was  there  any  chance  of  further  success.  They 
embarked  for  Ava  in  a  boat  six  feet  wide,  and  forty  feet  long, 
and,  on  the  25th  of  January,  arrived  safely  at  the  Burman 
capital.  As  a  present,  they  carried  with  them  the  Bible,  in  six 
volumes,  each  covered  with  gold-leaf  in  the  Burman  style,  and 
enclosed  in  a  rich  wrapper.  After  a  short  interview  with  the 
emperor,  they  received  his  answer,  that  "in  regard  to  the  ob- 
jects of  your  petition,  his  majesty  gives  no  order ;  in  regard 
to  your  sacred  books,  his  majesty  has  no  use  for  them ;  take 
them  away."  Still  they  were  not  discouraged.  A  learned 
native,  named  Mong-sha-gong,  was  converted,  and  devoted  his 
time  and  talents  to  the  mission.  When  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Judson 
sailed,  in  the  beginning  of  August,  for  Calcutta,  this  man  la- 
boured so  industriously  at  the  chapel,  that,  on  their  return, 
after  an  absence  of  five  months,  they  were  delighted  to  find  that 
not  one  convert  had  dishonoured  his  new  profession,  by  relapsing 
into  idolatry.  Other  portions  of  the  Scripture  were  now  trans- 
lated and  published;  and  again  the  prospects  of  the  mission 
revived.  Yet  difficulties  of  another  kind  arose.  Mrs.  Judson's 
health  was  failing  fast,  and  at  length  it  became  necessary  for 
her  to  leave  Burmah.  She  sailed  to  Calcutta,  and  thence  to 
England.  The  arrival  of  a  young  and  learned  woman,  from 
Burmah,  was  a  novelty  even  in  the  circles  of  London.  She  was 
invested  with  that  strange  halo  of  romantic  interest,  which  a 
lofty  purpose,  displayed  in  a  daring  courage,  and  a  calm  endur- 
ance, sheds  around  the  character.  Mankind  delight  to  behold 
a  wife  and  mother  acting  the  part  of  a  heroine,  in  the  holiest 
of  causes — wiping  the  tears  from  the  eyes  of  others,  and  cheer- 
ing their  hearts,  while,  for  the  gushings  of  her  own  sad  heart, 
there  is  found  no  comforter,  no  witness  but  God. 

Mrs.  Judson  succeeded  in  imparting  to  the  religious  com- 
munity of  London,  considerable  zeal  for  the  Burman  mission. 
She  next  visited  Scotland,  and  afterwards  embarked  at  Liver 
pool  for  her  native  land.  We  cannot  better  describe  the  efi'ect 
of  that  visit  upon  her  than  in  her  own  words.  "  From  the  day 
of  my  arrival,  all  peace  and  quiet  were  banished  from  my  mind  ; 


516  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

and,  for  the  first  four  days  and  nights,  I  never  closed  my  eyea 
to  sleep.  The  scene  which  ensued  at  my  father's,  brought  my 
feelings  to  a  crisis.  Nature  was  quite  exhausted,  and  I  began 
to  fear,  would  sink.  The  house  was  thronged  with  visiters 
from  day  to  day ;  and  I  was  kept  in  a  state  of  constant  ex- 
citement, by  daily  meeting  with  my  old  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances." She  afterAvards  retired  to  Baltimore,  and  was  placed 
under  the  best  medical  care.  Here  she  prepared  her  journal 
for  the  prciss.  In  the  spring  of  1823  she  returned  to  Massa- 
chusetts, greatly  improved  in  health.  Her  friends  endeavoured 
to  postpone  the  hour  of  her  departure,  but  so  great  was  her 
desire  of  returning  to  Burmah,  that  she  prepared  for  the  sepa- 
ration, which  she  felt  was  to  be  final.  The  scene  was  deeply 
affecting.  The  sorrowing  group  of  friends  and  relatives  stood 
upon  the  shore.  Sobs  and  cries  were  mingled  with  the  deep 
tones  of  agonizing  prayer.  When  the  boat  moved  off,  a  hymn 
was  sung,  descriptive  of  the  missionary's  lot — and  that  sound, 
as  it  followed  her  over  the  waters,  was  the  last  she  ever  heard 
in  her  native  land. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Judson  and  his  associates  remained  at  Ran- 
goon. In  1822,  they  had  been  strengthened  by  the  arrival  of 
Dr.  Price,  who,  with  his  friend,  visited  the  emperor.  At  length 
a  piece  of  ground  was  procured,  pleasantly  situated  on  the  river 
bank,  without  the  city  walls,  and  about  a  mile  from  the  palace. 
Here  Mr.  Judson  erected  a  small  house,  and  in  a  few  months 
his  New  Testament,  in  Burmah,  was  completed. 

In  December,  1823,  the  long-absent  wife  arrived  in  safety, 
and  soon  after  they  set  out  together  to  visit  the  queen,  who  had 
expressed  a  desire  to  see  them.  After  a  fine  voyage  up  the 
Irrawady,  they  reached  the  capital  and  were  kindly  received  by 
Dr.  Price,  at  whose  house  they  awaited  the  queen's  summons. 
But  a  period  of  trial  and  suffering  'greater  than  they  had 
yet  experienced  was  at  hand.  Burmah  was  on  the  eve  of 
war  with  Bengal.  The  emperor  placed  thirty  thousand  men 
under  the  command  of  his  gi-eat  general,  Bandoola,  for  the 
purpose  of  invading  Bengal.  In  May,  1824,  six  thousand 
English  troops  sat  down  before  liangoon,  which  was  speedily 
captured.  The  rage  of  the  Burmese  at  this  loss  was  unbuunded. 
They  threatened  to  murder  the  missionaries,  and  to  drive  all 
foreigners  from  the  capital.     Mr.  Judson  was  seized,  and,  witii 


ANNE   IIASSELTINE   JUDSON.  517 

otliei-  white  persons,  thrown  into  the  death  prison,  and  con- 
fined with  three  pair  of  iron  fetters  to  a  long  pole.  His  wife 
was  not  allowed  to  enter  this  gloomy  dungeon.  At  the  end  of 
tw^o  months,  the  prison  was  torn  down,  Mr.  Judson  and  his  com- 
panions were  placed  in  an  inner  cell,  and  all  intercourse  with 
them  denied.  Soon  after,  Bandoola  was  killed  in  battle.  The 
prisoners  were  removed  into  the  interior,  chained  in  pairs,  and 
driven  by  slaves.  On  receiving  intelligence  of  this,  Mrs.  Jud- 
son, though  suffering  from  recent  sickness,  set  out  to  follow  her 
husband,  carrying  with  her  their  second  child,  but  lately  born. 
The  heat  and  the  other  dangers  of  the  journey  almost  deprived 
her  of  reason ;  and  on  reaching  the  village  where  her  husband 
was  confined,  she  was  forced  to  seek  a  shelter  at  the  house  of 
the  jailer.  During  the  six  months  that  she  remained  here,  her 
sufferings  were  dreadful.  "  I  was  all  day  long  going  backwards 
and  forwards  to  the  prison,  with  Maria  in  my  arms.  My  mise- 
rable food  and  more  miserable  lodgings  brought  on  one  of.  the 
diseases  of  the  country.  I  could  scarcely  walk  to  see  my  hus- 
band. My  strength  seemed  at  last  entirely  exhausted.  I 
crawled  to  the  mat  in  the  little  room,  to  which  I  was  confined 
for  more  than  two  months." 

These  sufferings  were  terminated  by  an  order  from  the  British 
ofificer.  Sir  Archibald  Campbell,  that  the  white  prisoners  should 
be  surrendered.  The  faithful  wdfe  was  once  more  restored  to 
her  husband,  and  both  were  received  and  entertained  by  the 
general  and  his  officers  in  a  manner  which  obliterated,  in  some 
measure,  the  remembrance  of  their  sufferings.  After  an  absence 
of  two  years  and  a  half,  they  returned  to  Rangoon,  where  Mrs. 
Judson  exerted  herself  to  relieve  the  condition  of  those  who  had 
been  rendered  miserable  through  oppression  or  imprisonment. 
The  first  mission  being  in  a  deplorable  condition,  it  was  resolved 
to  found  a  new  one  at  Amherst,  a  newly  built  town  on  the  Sal- 
wen  river.  After  arriving  here  safely,  Mr.  Judson  set  out  on 
an  embassy  to  Ava.  "We  parted,"  he  says,  "with  cheerful 
hearts,  confident  of  a  speedy  reunion,  and  indulging  fond  anti- 
cipations of  future  years  of  domestic  happiness."  It  was  their 
last  parting.  Early  in  October,  Mrs.  Judson  was  seized  with  a 
dangerous  illness,  which  increased  upon  her  to  an  alarming  ex- 
tent. In  a  few  days  her  mind  became  unsettled,  though  she 
Rtill  recognised  her  child,  gazing  fixedly  upon  it,  and  charging 

2X 


518  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

the  servants  to  be  kind  to  it  until  the  father  should  return. 
Once  or  twice  memory  brought  back  the  departing  affections  in 
all  their  strength.  "  My  husband  is  long  in  coming,  (she  would 
murmur,)  the  new  missionaries  are  long  in  coming.  I  must  die 
alone,  and  leave  my  little  one  ;  but,  as  it  is  the  will  of  God,  I 
acquiesce.  I  am  not  afraid  to  die.  Tell  him  the  disease  was 
most  violent,  and  I  could  not  write.  Tell  him  how  I  suffered, 
and  died."  At  the  fatal  moment  she  uttered  one  exclamation 
of  distress  in  the  Burman  language,  and  expired.  She  was 
buried  in  a  little  cemetery  under  the  hopia  tree ;  and  there, 
too,  in  a  few  months,  her  infant  was  laid  by  her  side.  Mrs. 
Judson  was  the  first  American  woman  who  left  her  native  land 
to  carry  the  gospel  to  the  heathen.  In  the  bright  day  of  youth 
and  of  love,  she  left  home,  and  earthly  pleasures,  and  the 
haunts  of  childhood,  not  because  she  loved  them  less  than 
others  do,  but  because  she  loved  them  less  than  her  God. 

"^Christianity,"  says  one  of  Mrs.  Judson's  biographers, 
"  ennobles  and  elevates  the  character.  In  the  view  of  the 
worldly,  the  man  of  true  religion  is  too  often  regarded  as  inca- 
pable of  deeds  of  greatness.  His  humility  is  accounted  mean- 
ness; his  meekness,  pusillanimity;  his  scrupulous  conscientious- 
ness, narrowness  of  mind.  And  yet  it  is  in  the  Christian  man  or 
woman  who  fears  God,  and  therefore  knows  no  other  fear,  that 
the  best  example  of  true  magnanimity  is  to  be  found.  What 
but  the  religion  of  the  blessed  Jesus  could  have  ^o  steeled  the 
heart  and  nerved  the  arm  of  a  timid,  shrinking  female,  as  to 
have  led  to  the  performance  of  such  deeds,  or  the  endurance 
of  such  sufferings,  as  marked  the  history  of  Mrs.  Judson?  She 
was,  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  a  Christian  heroine — a  woman 
of  powerful  mind,  of  large  heart,  of  undaunted  courage,  and 
yet  of  simple,  humble,  unaffected  piety." 


JOHN    WILLIAM   FLETCHER. 


519 


JOHN    WILLIAM   FLETCHER, 


,^  OUNGEST  son  of  Colonel  de  la  Flech^re,  a 

'^  Swiss,  in  the  French  service,  was  born  on  the 
&  12th  of  September,  1729,  near  Geneva,  where 
he  appears  to  have  commenced  and  completed 
his  education.  Evincing  a  predilection  for 
a  military  life,  he  proceeded,  at  an  early  age, 
contrary  to  the  wishes  of  his  friends,  who  con- 
sidered him  to  be  more  qualified  for  the  church 
than  the  camp,  to  Portugal,  where  he  obtained 
the  captaincy  of  a  company  of  volunteers,  who 
were  destined  to  serve  in  Brazil ;  but,  on  the  morn- 
ing of  his  intended  departure,  a  servant,  by  acci- 
dent, scalded  him  so  severely  that  he  was  incapable 
of  embarking.  The  man  of  war,  in  which  he  had 
been  ordered  to  sail,  consequently  put  to  sea  without 
him,  and  was  never  heard  of  again.  He  subsequently 
procured  a  commission  in  the  Dutch  service ;  but,  an  unexpect- 
ed peace  puttings  an  end  to  his  hopes  of  promotion,  he  aban- 
doned the  army,  and,  removing  to  England,  became  tutor  in 
the  family  of  Mr.  Hill,  of  Shropshire,  and  at  length  a  preacher 
among  the  Wesleyan  Methodists.  Having  obtained  a  title  for 
holy  orders,  he  was  ordained  deacon  by  the  Bishop  of  Bangor, 
on  the  6th  of  March,  1767,  and  priest  on  the  following  Sab- 
bath. After  having  officiated  at  various  places  in  the  country, 
and  preached  to  the  French  prisoners  at  Tunbridge,  in  their 
own  language,  he  was  appointed  assistant  to  Charles  Wesley. 
Although  his  pronunciation  of  the  English  language  was  imper- 
fect, the  correctness  of  his  manner  in  the  pulpit  procured  him 
many  admirers,  one  of  whom  presented  him,  in  1759,  to  the 
vicarage  of  Madeley,  which  he  held  during  the  remainder  of 
his  life.  In  1770,  he  visited  his  native  country,  and,  on  his 
return  to  England,  in  the  folloAving  summer,  became  gratuitous 


520  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

superintendent  of  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon's*  College  of  Di- 
vinity ;  but,  owing  to  a  schism  among  the  students  on  the  sub- 
ject of  predestination,  he  resigned  his  office  in  1771,  and  sub- 
sequently produced  several  controversial  works.  In  1777,  he 
proceeded  to  the  south  of  France  for  the  benefit  of  his  health, 
and,  soon  after  his  return  in  1781,  married  a  lady  named  Bo- 
sanquet.  His  death  took  place  on  the  18th  of  August,  1785. 
His  mode  of  living  was  simple,  his  devotion  pure,  his  temper 
benignant,  and  his  conduct  exemplary.  For  a  long  period,  he 
regularly  devoted  two  nights'  in  the  week  to  meditation  and 
prayer.  He  also  had  a  candle  constantly  burning  at  his  bed- 
side, a  custom  which  once  nearly  cost  him  his  life,  through  his 
curtains  catching  fire,  though  he  providentially  escaped  without 
the  slightest  personal  injury.  It  appears  that  he  refused  to 
enforce  the  payment  of  tithes  from  the  Quakers  who  resided  in 
his  parish,  so  that  the  income  he  derived  from  his  vicarage  did 
not  exceed  ^£100  per  annum.  It  was  said  by  one  of  his  friends 
that  he  would  rather  hear  one  of  his  sermons  -than  read  a  vo- 
lume of  iiis  works.  These  consist  of  "  A  Vindication  of  the 
Reverend  Mr.  Wesley's  Calm  Address  to  our  American  Colo- 
nies, in  some  Letters  to  Mr.  Caleb  Evans;"  "  A  Sermon  on  an 
Earthquake  in  Shropshire ;"  "American  Patriotism  further  con- 
fronted with  Reason,  Scripture,  and  the  Constitution;"  "The 
Doctrines  of  Grace  and  Justice  equally  essential  to  the  Pure 
Gospel;"  and  "An  Essay  on  the  Peace  of  1783." 

*  Selina,  Countess  of  Huntingdon,  tlie  second  daughter  of  Washington, 
Earl  Ferrars,  was  born  in  1707,  and  married  June  3d,  1728,  to  Theophilus, 
Earl  of  Huntingdon.  Becoming  a  widow,  she  acquired  a  taste  for  the  princi- 
ples of  the  Calvinistic  Methodists,  and  patronized  the  llev.  George  Whitefield, 
whom  she  constituted  her  chaphiin.  Her  rank  and  fortune  giving  her  great 
influence,  she  was  long  considered  as  a  head  of  her  sect ;  and,  after  the  death 
of  Whitefield,  his  followers  were  designated  as  the  people  of  Lady  Hunting- 
don. She  founded  schools  and  colleges  for  preachers,  supported  them  with 
her  j:  'irse,  and  expended  annually  large  sums  in  private  charity.  She  died 
June  17th.  1791. 


ANNE    LETITTA    BARBAULD. 


ANNE   LETITIA   BARBAULD. 


^ILWORTH  HARCOURT,  in  Leicestershire, 
was  the  birth-place  of  this  gifted  authoress. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  Dr.  John  Aiken,  and 
was  born  on  the  20th  of  June,  1743.  Her 
education  was  entirely  domestic  ;  but  the 
quickness  of  apprehension  and  desire  for  learn- 
ing which  she  manifested,  induced  her  father 
to  lend  her  his  assistance  towards  enabling  her 
to  obtain  a  knowledge  of  Latin  and  Greek.  On 
the  removal  of  Dr.  Aikin  to  superintend  the  dis- 
senting academy  at  Warrington,  in  Lancashire, 
she  accompanied  him  thither,  in  her  fifteenth  year, 
when  she  is  said  to  have  possessed  great  beauty  of 
person  and  vivacity  of  intellect.  The  associates  she 
met  with  at  Warrington  were  in  every  way  congenial 
to  her  mind,  and  among  others  were  Drs.  Priestley  and 
Enfield,  with  whom  she  formed  an  intimate  acquaintance.  In 
1773,  she  was  induced  to  publish  a  volume  of  her  Poems,  which, 
in  the  course  of  the  same  year,  went  through  four  editions. 
They  were  followed  by  ''  Miscellaneous  Pieces  in  Prose,"  by  J. 
(her  brother)  and  A.  L.  Aikin,  which  considerably  added  to  her 
reputation. 

In  1774,  she  married  the  Rev.  Rochemont  Barbauld,  with 
whom  she  removed  to  Palgrave,  near  Dis,  in  Suffolk,  where  her 
husband  had  charge  of  a  dissenting  congregation,  and  was  about 
to  open  a  boarding-school.  Mrs.  Barbauld  assisted  him  in  the 
task  of  instruction,  and  some  of  her  pupils,  who  have  since 
risen  to  literary  eminence,  among  whom  were  the  present  Mr. 
Denman  and  Sir  William  Gell,  have  acknowledged  the  value  of 
her  lessons  in  English  composition  and  declamation.  In  1775, 
appeared  a  small  volume  from  her  pen,  entitled  "  Devotional 


Pieces,  compiled 
66 


fiom  the  Psalms  of  David,' 
2x2 


&c.,  a  collection 


622  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

which  met  with  little  success,  and  some  animadversion.  In 
1778,  she  published  her  «'  Lessons  for  Children  from  Two  to 
Three  Years'  Old,  and,  in  1781,  "  Hymns  in  Prose  for  Chil- 
dren," both  of  which  may  be  said  to  have  formed  an  era  in  the 
art  of  instruction,  and  the  former  has  been  translated  into 
French  by  M.  Pasquier. 

In  1785,  Mrs.  Barbauld  and  her  husband  gave  up  their 
school  and  visited  the  Continent,  whence  they  returned  to  Eng- 
land, in  June,  1786,  and  in  the  following  year  took  up  their 
residence  at  Hampstead.  Our  authoress  now  began  to  use  her 
pen  on  the  popular  side  of  politics,  and  published  successively 
^'  An  Address  to  the  Opposers  of  the  Repeal  of  the  Corporation 
and  Test  Acts;"  ''A  Poetical  Epistle  to  Mr.  Wilberforce  on 
the  Rejection  of  the  Bill  for  Abolishing  the  Slave  Trade  ;" 
"  Remarks  on  Gilbert  Wakefield's  Inquiry  into  the  Expediency 
and  Propriety  of  Public  or  Social  Worship ;"  and  "  Sins  of 
Government,  Sins  of  the  Nation,  or  a  Discourse  for  the  Fast," 
which  last  appeared  in  1793.  In  1802,  she  removed,  with  Mr. 
Barbauld,  to  Stoke  Newington,  and  in  1804  published  "  Selections 
from  the  Spo-^tator,  Tatler,  Guardian,  and  Freeholder,"  with 
a  preliminary  essay,  which  is  regarded  as  her  most  successful 
effort  in  literary  criticism.  In  the  same  year,  appeared  her 
edition  of  "  The  Correspondence  of  Richardson,"  in  six  volumes, 
duodecimo ;  but  the  most  valuable  part  of  this  work  is  the  very 
elegant  and  interesting  life  of  that  novelist,  and  the  able  re- 
view of  his  works,  from  the  pen  of  our  authoress.  In  1808,  she 
became  a  widow,  and  in  1810  appeared  her  edition  of  "  The 
British  Novelists,"  with  an  introductory  essay,  and  biographi- 
cal and  critical  notices  prefixed  to  the  works  of  each  author. 
In  the  following  year,  she  published  a  collection  of  prose  and 
verse,  under  the  title  of  "  The  Female  Spectator,"  and  in  the 
same  year  appeared  that  original  offspring  of  her  genius, 
^'  Eighteen  Hundred  and  Eleven,  a  poem."  This  was  the  last 
separate  publication  of  Mrs.  Barbauld,  who  died  on  the  9th 
of  March,  1825,  in  the  82d  year  of  her  age.  An  edition  of 
her  works  appeared  in  the  same  year,  in  two  octavo  volumes, 
with  a  memoir,  by  Lucy  Aikin. 

Mrs.  Barbauld  is  one  of  the  most  eminent  female  writers 
which  England  has  produced,  and,  both  in  prose  and  poetry, 
she  is  unequalled  by  any  of  lun-  sex,  in  the  present  age.     With 


ANNE    LETITIA  BARBAULD.  625 

respect  to  the  style,  we  shall,  perhaps,  best  describe  it  by  call- 
ing it  that  of  a  female  Johnson,  and  her  "  Essay  on  Romances'* 
is  a  professed  imitation  of  the  manner  of  that  great  critic.  He 
is  himself  said  to  have  allowed  it  to  be  the  best  that  was  ever 
attempted,  "because  it  reflected  the  colour  of  his  thoughts,  no 
less  than  the  turn  of  his  expressions."  She  is,  however,  not 
without  a  style  of  her  own,  which  is  graceful,  easy,  and  natu- 
ral— alike  calculated  to  engage  the  most  common  and  the  most 
elevated  understanding.  Her  poems  are  addressed  more  to  the 
feelings  than  to  the  imagination — more  to  the  reason  than  the 
senses ;  but  the  language  never  becomes  prosaic,  and  has  sub- 
limity and  pathos,  totally  free  from  bombast  and  affectatioa 
The  spirit  of  piety  and  benevolence  that  breathes  through  her 
works  pervaded  her  life,  and  she  is  an  amiable  example  to  her 
sex  that  it  is  possible  to  combine,  without  danger  to  its  morals 
or  religious  principles,  a  manly  understanding  with  a  feminine 
and  susceptible  heart. 


624 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 


KEGINALD   HEBER. 


ISHOP  of  Calcutta,  was  born  at  Malpas,  ia 
Cheshire,  on  the  21st  of  April,  1783.  He 
acquired  the  rudiments  of  learning  at  White- 
church  grammar  school ;  and,  after  prosecut- 
ing his  studies,  for  some  time,  at  Dr.  Bristow's 
academy,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  London,  he 
was  entered,  in  1800,  at  Brazen-nose  College, 
Oxford.  His  classical  acquirements,  at  this 
time,  were  far  from  extensive  ;  but  natural  abili- 
ties and  unremitting  application  soon  raised  him 
to  a  par  with  his  collegiate  contemporaries ;  and,  in 
1802,  he  gained  the  university  prize  for  a  copy  of 
Latin  hexameters.  In  the  spring  of  1803,  he  wrote 
his  celebrated  poem  of  Palestine  ;  for  which,  in  that 
year,  he  also  obtained  a  prize.  It  is  related,  that,  on 
ascending  the  rostrum  to  recite  this  beautiful  composi- 
perceiving  two  ladies  of  Jewish  extraction  among  his 
auditory,  he  determined  on  altering  some  lines,  in  which  he  had 
reflected  severely  on  their  race ;  but  that  not  having  an  oppor- 
tunity to  communicate  his  intention  to  the  prompter,  the  latter 
checked  him,  on  his  attempting  to  deliver  the  passage  in  the 
manner  he  wished ;  and  he  was,  consequently,  obliged  to  pro- 
nounce it  as  it  had  been  originally  written.  The  applause  with 
which  he  was  greeted,  on  this  occasion,  is  reported  to  have  pro- 
duced a  serious  eifect  on  his  venerable  father,  who,  it  is  stated, 
may  almost  be  said  to  have  died  with  joy,  shortly  after  witness- 
ing his  son's  triumph.  On  retiring  from  the  theatre,  Heber 
escaped  from  the  congratulations  of  his  friends,  to  thank  the 
Almighty  in  solitude;  "not  so  much  for  his  talents,"  says  Mrs. 
Heber,  "  as  that  those  talents  had  enabled  him  to  give  unmixe(' 
happiness  to  his  parents." 

He  now  ajiplied  himself  to  the  study  of  mathematics  and  the 


lion. 


REGINALD   HEBER.  526 

higher  classics,  and  his  diligence  was  rewarded  with  extraor- 
dinary success.  In  1805,  he  took  the  degree  of  B.  A.,  and  soon 
afterwards  gained  a  third  university  prize,  for  an  "Essay  on  the 
Sense  of  Honour."  After  having  been  elected  a  Fellow  of  All 
Souls,  he  quitted  Oxford,  and  proceeded  on  a  tour  through  Ger- 
many, Russia,  and  the  Crimea  ;  during  which  he  made  several 
excellent  notes,  Avhich  were  afterwards  appended  to  the  Travels 
of  Dr.  Clarke. 

On  his  return  to  England,  in  1808,  he  proceeded  M.  A.  ; 
and,  shortly  afterwards,  published  a  political  poem,  entitled, 
«  Europe  : — Lines  on  the  present  AVar."  He  now  retired,  with  his 
wife,  a  daughter  of  Dr.  Shipley,  Dean  of  St.  Asaph,  to  the  liv- 
ing of  Hodnet,  to  which  he  had  recently  been  presented  ;  and, 
for  some  time,  wholly  devoted  himself  to  the  humble  but  impor- 
tant duties  of  his  station.  In  1815,  he  preached  at  the  Bamp- 
ton  lecture,  a  series  of  sermons,  which  he  published  in  the  follow- 
ing year,  '<  On  the  Personality  and  Office  of  the  Christian  Com- 
forter." About  the  same  time,  he  composed  several  articles  for 
.a  Dictionary  of  the  Bible ;  and  printed  a  discourse,  which  he 
had  delivered  before  the  Bishop  of  Chester.  In  1820,  his  life 
was  endangered  by  a  malignant  fever,  with  which  he  had  been 
infected,  by  fearlessly  visiting  some  of  his  sick  parishioners.  In 
1822,  he  was  appointed  preacher  at  Lincoln's  Inn  ;  and  pro- 
duced a  life  of  Jeremy  Taylor,  prefixed  to  a  new  edition  of  that 
eminent  writer's  productions.  Soon  afterwards,  he  was  offered 
the  bishopric  of  Calcutta ;  which,  after  twice  refusing,  he,  at 
length,  on  the  suggestion  of  his  wife,  consented  to  accept ;  and 
embarked  for  the  East  Indies,  in  June,  1823.  In  the  preceding 
April,  he  had  preached  an  affecting  farewell  sermon  to  his  par- 
ishioners ;  who,  on  his  departure  from  Hodnet,  had  presented 
him  with  a  piece  of  plate,  as  a  memorial  of  their  gratitude  and 
esteem. 

During  his  voyage,  he  occupied  himself  in  studying  Hindos- 
tanee  and  Persian ;  feeling  satisfied,  as  he  expressed  himself, 
that,  if  he  did  not  know  them  both,  in  a  year  or  two,  at  least 
as  well  as  he  knew  French  and  German,  that  the  fault  would 
be  in  his  capacity,  and  not  in  his  diligence.  On  the  10th  of 
October,  he  landed  at  Calcutta,  and  immediately  exerted  him- 
self, with  great  anxiety,  to  compose  some  clerical  differences 
tliat  had  arisen  in  his  diocese.     No  sooner  was  this  great  object 


526  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

affected,  than  he  commenced  a  series  of  laborious  progresses 
through  his  extensive  bishopric ;  during  which  he  consecrated 
several  churches,  and  signalized  himself,  by  his  pious  endeavours 
to  diffuse  Christianity  among  the  Hindoos.  His  last  visitation 
was  to  the  Presidency  of  Madras.  At  Trinchinopoly,  on  the  3cl 
of  April,  1826,  after  having  greatly  fatigued  himself  in  the  dis- 
charge of  his  episcopal  duties,  he  retired  to  his  chamber,  and 
imprudently  plunged  into  a  cold  bath ;  at  the  bottom  of  which, 
he  was  found,  quite  dead,  about  half  an  hour  afterwards,  by  one 
of  his  servants.  His  remains  were  interred  at  St.  John's  church, 
Trinchinopoly  ;  and  a  subscription  was  opened,  soon  after  his 
death,  for  the  erection  of  a  monument  to  his  memory,  at 
Madras. 

In  person  he  was  tall,  and  rather  thin  ;  his  hair  was  dark, 
his  countenance  pale,  the  expression  of  his  features  intellectual, 
and  his  deportment  dignified.  He  appears  to  have  had  no  ene- 
mies ;  whoever  mentions  his  name,  more  or  less  eulogizes  his 
character.  He  possessed  great  talents,  considerable  eloquence, 
and  a  most  amiable  disposition.  Though  anxious  to  exert  him- 
self in  the  diffusion  of  Christian  knowledge,  he  sought  not  to 
extend  the  sphere  of  his  influence,  either  by  adulation  or  intrigue. 
Ho  embarked  in  no  controversy,  shared  in  no  dispute,  but  lived 
in  perfect  charity  with  all  men.  Peace  and  good-will  attended 
him  wheresoever  he  went :  he  was  enthusiastically  admired  dur- 
ing his  pious  career,  and  generally  lamented  at  its  close. 


WILLIAM   CAREY. 


527 


WILLIAM   CAREY. 


x\REY  was  born  at  Hackleton,  in  Leicester- 
shire,* on  the  17th  of  August,  1761.  The 
circumstances  of  his  parents  were  extremely 
narrow,  and  he  had  few  advantages  of  educa- 
tion, except  those  which  his  own  active  and 
inquiring  mind  obtained  for  him.  He  was 
brought  up  as  a  journeyman  shoemaker ;  and 
I  boot  made  by  him  is  still  preserved  by  one  of 
his  friends  as  a  relic.  It  was  about  the  year  1779, 
when  he  was  in  his  eighteenth  year,  that  young 
jarej  became  the  subject  of  a  decided  religious 
lange.  Up  to  that  time,  he  had  discovered  no  piety, 
and  had  even  ridiculed  religious  people.  The  conver- 
sation of  a  fellow-apprentice,  the  occasional  ministry  of 
le  Rev.  Thomas  Scott,  the  Expositor,  and  the  perusal 
of  the  "Help  to  Zion's  Travellers,"  by  Robert  Hall,  the 
elder,  are  stated  to  have  been  the  means  of  his  conversion.  Mr. 
Scott  was  not  aware  of  having  been  instrumental  in  producing 
this  happy  change  in  Carey's  mind,  until  he  learned  it  from  a 
message  conveyed  to  him  from  the  venerable  missionary  him 
self,  through  Dr.  Ryland,  more  than  forty  years  after.  "  He 
heard  me  preach  only  a  few  times,"  Mr.  Scott  wrote  in  repl}'', 
<<  and  that,  so  far  as  I  know,  in  my  rather  irregular  excursions ; 
though  I  often  conversed  and  prayed  in  his  presence,  and  en- 
deavoured to  answer  his  sensible  and  pertinent  inijuiries,  at 
Hackleton.  But  to  have  conveyed  a  single  useful  hint  to  such 
a  mind  as  his,  may  be  considered  as  a  high  privilege  and  matter 
of  gratitude." 

The  change  in  young  Carey's  sentiments   and  feelings  soon 
became  visible  to  his  family,  in  his  altered  conduct  and  conver- 


*  An  article  in  the  Liverpool  Times  states,  that  he  was  born  at  Paulere 
oury,  in  Northamptonshire ;  but  this  we  presume  to  oe  a  mistake 


528  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

sation,  and  was  the  subject  of  wonder.  "  For  some  time  he 
stood  alone  in  his  father's  house."  At  length  he  asked  and  ob- 
tained leave  to  introduce  family  prayer.  "When  in  his  nine- 
teenth year,"  says  his  sister,  "my  dear  brother  used  to  speak 
(on  religious  topics)  at  a  friend's  house  in  the  village,  when  he 
came  to  see  us.  I  recollect  a  neighbour  of  ours,  a  good  wo- 
man, the  first  Monday  morning  after  he  had  spoken  before  a 
few  friends,  came  in  to  congratulate  my  mother  on  the  occa- 
sion :  when  with  some  surprise  ray  mother  said  :  '  What !  do 
you  think  he  will  be  a  preacher?'  'Yes,'  our  friend  replied, 
'  and  a  great  one  too  if  he  lives.'  My  father  felt  a  great  desire 
to  hear  him,  if  he  could  go  undiscovered.  In  this,  he  was  after- 
wards gratified,  though  unknown  to  my  brother  or  any  one  at 
the  time.  We  could  tell  he  was  gratified,  although  he  never 
discovered  any  thing  to  us  like  praise.  In  a  few  years,  I  hope, 
God  gave  him  the  desire  of  his  heart,  in  bringing  his  two  sisters 
to  see  a  beauty  in  religion.  Then  we  were  dear  indeed  to  each 
other." 

In  1783,  Mr.  Carey  united  himself  to  the  Baptist  church  at 
Olncy,  under  the  pastoral  care  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Sutcliflf.  By 
this  church,  agreeably  to  the  practice  which  then  obtained 
among  that  denomination,  he  was,  in  1785,  called  to  the  work 
of  the  ministry.  In  the  following  year,  he  removed  to  Moul- 
ton,  a  village  four  miles  from  Northampton ;  and  he  was  or- 
dained pastor  over  the  infant  Baptist  society  in  that  village  in 
1787.  Even  there,  his  whole  income  being  much  below  .£20  a 
year,  he  taught  a  village  school  for  his  support.  In  July,  1789, 
he  removed  to  Leicester,  and  in  May,  1791,  was  ordained  to  the 
pastoral  charge  of  the  Baptist  church  meeting  in  Harvey  Lane, 
over  which  the  late  Robert  Hall  afterwards  presided  for  so 
many  years.  Here  his  ministry  was  so  successful,  that  the 
number  of  members  in  the  church  was  doubled  during  the  short 
time  he  was  their  pastor.  He  introduced  among  them  the  prac- 
tice,  first  adopted  by  some  ministers  at  Nottingham,  upon  Mr. 
Sutcliff''s  suggestion,  in  1784,  of  spending  an  hour  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  first  Monday  in  every  month,  in  social  prayer  for 
the  revival  of  religion  and  the  success  of  the  gospel,  which  has 
since  become  so  general ;  and  these  meetings  powerfully  contri- 
buted to  cherish  the  fine  spirit  which  they  discovered,  when  he 
announced  his  resolution  to  dedicate   himself  to  the  work  of 


WILLIAM   CA.REY.  529 

evangelizing  the  heathen.  "No,"  said  they,  '<you  shall  not 
go^ — we  will  send  you :  we  have  long  been  calling  upon  God, 
and  he  now  calls  upon  us  to  make  the  first  sacrifice." 

The  circumstances  which  decided  him  upon  going  out  to  India, 
are  thus  stated  by  the  Rev.  Christopher  Anderson : 

'<  About  the  year  1793,  a  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Thomas, 
who  had  visited  Bengal,  and  there  seen  the  wretched  supersti- 
tion and  ignorance  of  the  Hindoos,  and  the  destructive  influ- 
ence of  their  sanguinary,  sensual,  and  monstrous  superstitions 
on  their  religious  feelings,  morals,  and  happiness,  being  himself 
strongly  impressed  with  the  vast  importance  of  introducing  the 
religion  of  Britain  into  the  extensive  and  populous  regions  sub- 
jugated by  her  arms  and  ruled  by  her  governors,  greatly 
strengthened  by  his  conversation  the  desire  which  had  been  for 
some  time  growing  in  Dr.  Carey's  mind  to  see  a  strenuous  efi'ort 
made  for  the  religious  improvement  of  the  heathen  world.  In 
consequence.  Dr.  Carey  and  Mr.  Thomas  communicated  with 
Andrew  Fuller,  Dr.  Ryland,  and  other  leading  members  of  the 
Baptist  denomination,  on  the  subject ;  and  after  much  discus- 
sion a  society  was  established  for  that  purpose,  which  com- 
menced its  labours  with  between  c£13  and  £14,  as  the  whole 
amount  of  its  disposable  funds !  With  no  better  pecuniary 
prospects  than  these,  but  with  a  firm  and  unbending  faith,  and 
a  determination  not  to  be  deterred  by  difficulties,  Dr.  Carey 
agreed  to  go  out  to  India,  and  there  to  support  himself  as  far 
as  possible  by  his  own  exertions,  while  he  qualified  himself  for 
his  missionary  duties. 

"  The  circumstances  under  which  he  quitted  England  were 
singular  and  interesting.  From  the  first,  his  wife  had  refused 
to  embark  in  what  appeared  so  hopeless  an  undertaking ;  and, 
after  every  entreaty  had  failed  to  change  her  determination, 
Dr.  Carey  and  Mr.  Thomas  (who  went  out  with  him)  were  com- 
pelled to  sail  without  her.  After  they  had  proceeded  a  short 
distance  on  their  voyage,  the  captain  of  the  East  Indiaman  by 
which  they  had  taken  their  passage,  came  to  Mr.  Thomas,  and 
told  him  that  he  had  received  an  anonymous  letter,  informing 
him  that  there  was  a  person  on  board  who  was  proceeding  to 
ladia,  without  a  license  from  the  company.  As  the  regulations 
of  the  East  India  Company,  in  reference  to  persons  going  out 
to  India,  were  at  that  time  singularly  rigid,  and  it  is  well  known 
67  2  Y 


530  LIVES  OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

that  the  directors  were  peculiarly  averse  to  any  attempts  of  a 
missionary  character,  the  captain  added,  that  he  was  satisfied 
this  letter  must  refer  to  Mr.  Thomas.  This  surmise  afterwards 
proved  to  have  been  unfounded ;  but  as  the  captain  seemed  to 
be  greatly  alarmed  by  the  apprehension  of  the  consequences  to 
himself,  if  Mr.  Thomas  insisted  on  the  engagement  into  which 
he  and  the  captain  had  mutually  entered,  he  was,  at  length, 
induced  to  yield  to  the  entreaties  of  the  captain,  and  he  and 
Mr.  Carey  were  put  on  shore,  the  vessel  immediately  proceeding 
on  its  voyage.  This  event  was,  at  the  moment,  a  severe  disap- 
pointment :  but  having  learned  that  a  Danish  vessel  was  to  leave 
Deal  for  Calcutta  in  two  days,  they  took  courage,  determining 
to  avail  themselves  of  that  interval,  short  as  it  was,  to  revisit 
Mrs.  Carey,  and  urge  their  plea  in  favour  of  her  accompanying 
them.  A  difficulty  occurred  in  the  want  of  funds  for  the  in- 
creased charge  of  a  passage  by  the  ship  in  question,  and  of  the 
expenses  of  travelling,  which  they  were  thus  unexpectedly  ex- 
posed to.  This  difficulty,  however,  was  surmounted  by  Dr. 
Rippon,  who  still  survives,  having  promptly  lent  them  £100 
which  he  had  on  hand ;  and  by  the  late  Mr.  Abraham  Booth 
borrowing  for  their  use  a  like  sum  from  his  friends.  Thus  fur- 
nished, they  hasted  down  to  Mrs.  Carey,  having  barely  time  to 
accomplish  this  object.  To  their  great  grief,  however,  she  again 
turned  a  deaf  ear  to  all  their  entreaties,  and  they,  with  heavy 
hearts,  took,  as  they  thought,  a  last  farewell,  and  left  her. 
When  they  had  proceeded  two  miles  from  the  house,  Mr.  Thomas 
insisted  that  they  should  turn  back  and  make  one  more  attempt. 
Mr.  Carey  objected,  entreating  his  companion  to  spare  his  feel- 
ings, and  not  to  allow  them  to  be  further  harrowed  by  perse- 
verance in  a  hopeless  effort.  Mr.  Thomas  seemed,  however,  so 
resolutely  bent  on  his  renewed  effort,  that  at  length  they  did 
turn  back  ;  again  used  every  argument  that  could  suggest  itself, 
but  apparently  with  as  little  success  as  before,  till  at  length, 
moved  by  her  husband's  tears  and  entreaties,  Mrs.  Carey,  turn- 
ing to  her  sister,  who  stood  by,  said  that  if  her  sister  would  ac- 
company her,  but  not  else,  she  would  consent  to  go.  The  sister 
was  then  appealed  to,  and  at  length,  though  apparently  with 
great  reluctance,  they  both  yielded.  Not  a  moment  was  now 
to  be  lost.  The  wife,  the  sister,  four  children,  and  as  much  of 
their  clothes  and  furniture  as  was  indispensable  for  the  voyage, 


WILLIAM   CAEEY.  531 

were  hurried  oif  to  Deal.  On  their  arrival  there,  the  vessel 
was  descried  under  sail,  with  scarcely  the  possibility  of  their 
overtaking  her.  The  attempt  however  was  made,  and,  by  dint 
of  persevering  labour,  they  approached  the  ship,  on  which  the 
captain  backed  his  sails,  and  received  them  all  safe  on  board, 
conveying  them,  at  length,  to  their  destination. 

"  On  their  arrival  in  India,  Dr.  Carey  and  Mr.  Thomas  imme 
diately  proceeded  to  act  upon  the  intention  they  had  avowed  on 
quitting  their  own  shores,  of  receiving  no  further  pecuniary  aid 
from  the  friends  of  the  mission  than  might  be  necessary  for 
their  existence.  In  pursuance  of  this  determination,  therefore, 
they  both  engaged  themselves  in  a  secular  employment,  which 
enabled  them,  by  constant  intercourse  with  the  natives,  to  be- 
come familiar  with  their  vernacular  language.  Although  Mr. 
Carey,  who  had  obtained  the  superintendence  of  an  indigo  fac- 
tory, at  a  considerable  distance  in  the  interior,  was  thus  far 
removed  from  the  observation  of  the  ruling  authorities  in  Cal- 
cutta, his  frequent  conversations  with  the  natives  on  the  subject 
of  religion  were  soon  reported  there  :  he  was  immediately  called 
to  account,  and,  on  his  admitting  that  his  design  was  to  evan- 
gelize the  heathen,  he  was  told  that  the  residence  of  missiona- 
ries in  India,  of  any  denomination,  would  not  be  tolerated ;  and 
that  he  must  forthwith  re-embark  for  England.  This  cruel  and 
impolitic  proceeding  drove  Mr.  Carey  to  seek  refuge  in  the 
Danish  settlement  of  Serampore,  about  thirteen  miles  from  Cal- 
cutta, where  he  was  joined,  in  January,  1800,  by  Ward,  Marsh- 
man,  and  others ;  all  of  whom,  except  Dr.  Marshman  and  his 
son,  who  joined  his  exertions  to  theirs  some  years  afterwards, 
have  entered  into  their  rest." 

Upon  his  arrival  in  India,  the  first  language  to  which  Mr. 
Carey  turned  his  attention  was  the  vernacular  tongue  of  the 
people  among  whom  he  lived  and  died.  But  he  soon  perceived 
that  the  Sanscrit  was  the  grand  root  of  oriental  literature,  the 
key  to  all  its  treasures ;  and  by  the  year  1796,  he  had  begun 
to  study  both  that  language  and  the  Hindoostanee.  In  Janu- 
ary, 1800,  he  removed  to  Serampore,  and  in  the  following  yeai 
was  appointed  professor  in  the  new  Government  College  of  Fort 
William.  Early  in  the  same  year,  the  Bengalee  New  Testa- 
ment was  finished  at  the  mission  press.  This  translation  of  the 
sacred  Scriptures  into  thp  vArnacular  tongue  of  at  least  twenty- 


532  LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

five  millions,  had  been  commenced  by  Mr.  Carey  as  early  as  the 
spring  of  1794  ;  Mr.  Thomas  having,  however,  previously  ac- 
complished a  translation  of  part  of  the  New  Testament.  By 
the  close  of  1796,  the  translation  of  the  New  Testament  was 
completed  for  revision.  In  July,  1800,  the  Gospel  by  Matthew 
began  to  be  distributed  among  the  natives.  At  length,  after 
being  nine  months  in  the  press,  the  first  edition  of  the  Bengalee 
New  Testament,  (octavo,  900  pages,)  consisting  of  two  thou- 
sand copies,  was  issued  on  the  7th  of  February,  1801.  This 
was  followed,  in  1802,  by  the  Pentateuch  in  the  same  language, 
and  in  1803,  by  the  Psalms  and  other  portions  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament. A  small  impression  of  the  Gospel  of  Matthew  in 
Mahratta,  was  issued  in  1805  ;  and  a  second  edition  of  the 
Bengalee  New  Testament  in  1806.  In  1809,  the  New  Testa- 
ment in  Orissa,  and  in  Sanscrit,  were  completed  at  press ;  and 
some  portions  of  the  Old  Testament  in  Orissa  had  been  issued, 
besides  an  edition  of  the  Mahratta  New  Testament,  of  the  Hin- 
dostanee  New  Testament,  and  the  four  gospels  in  Persian,  when, 
on  the  11th  of  March,  1812,  the  printing  office  was  destroyed 
by  fire ! 

The  assembling  of  so  many  learned  pundits  from  all  parts  of 
India  in  the  College  of  Fort  William,  threw  into  the  hands  of 
Dr.  Carey  a  living  polyglot  apparatus  such  as  he  could  not 
otherwise  have  obtained :  and  the  overruling  hand  of  Divine 
Providence  was  strikingly  manifested  in  the  whole  business. 
But  how  extraordinary  must  have  been  the  energy  of  the  mind 
which  could  grasp  so  vast  a  plan,  and  direct  the  movements  of 
the  subordinate  instruments  employed  in  this  great  work,  upon 
which  his  soul  was  bent ! 

Aptitude  for  acquiring  languages  was  Dr.  Carey's  most 
wonderful  natural  endowment.  Before  he  left  England  for 
India,  he  had  contrived,  amid  the  pressure  of  poverty  and  the 
constant  engagements  of  his  school  and  pastoral  office,  to  make 
himself  sufficiently  master  of  six  languages,  besides  his  native 
tongue,  to  read  the  Bible  in  each ;  viz.  Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew, 
French,  Italian,  and  Dutch.  His  knowledge  of  the  last  lan- 
guage was  acquired,  without  the  intervention  of  one  elementary 
book,  through  some  Dutch  quarto  obtained  from  an  old  woman. 

For  a  complete  list  of  Dr.  Carey's  literary  labours,  and  of 
Uie  publications  issued  from  the  Serampore  press,  wc  must  refer 


WILLIAM  CAREY.  533 

the  readev-  to  the  highly  interesting  "  Tenth  Memoir  of  the 
Seratnpore  Brethren."  The  entire  Scriptures  have  been  printed 
in  six  of  the  languages  of  India,  besides  that  stupendous  work 
of  Carey's  beloved  and  inseparable  companion  in  labour,  Dr. 
Marshman,  the  Chinese  Bible  ;  the  New  Testament  has  been 
printed  in  twenty-three  languages,  and  portions  of  the  Scrip- 
tures in  ten  others.  In  few  words,  '^  God  most  graciously  pro- 
longed the  years  of  his  servant,  until  he  lived  to  see  more  than 
two  hundred  and  thirteen  thousand  volumes  of  the  Divine  word, 
in  forty  different  languages,  issue  from  the  Serampore  press." 

There  are  some  other  traits  in  the  character  of  this  admira- 
ble man,  mentioned  by  Mr.  Anderson,  which  must  not  be  passed 
over.  Speaking  of  his  ''enlarged  humanity,"  Mr.  Anderson 
remarks,  that  "long  familiarity  with  the  miseries  of  Hindooism 
has  hardened  by  degrees  the  heart  of  many  a  European  in  his 
day;  they  never  could  the  heart  of  Carey." 

"  His  exertions  unquestionably  first  led  to  the  prevention  of 
infanticide,  and  that  of  persons  devoting  themselves  to  death  at 
Saugur  island  in  the  mouth  of  the  Hooghly;  and  though  the 
immolation  of  widows  on  the  funeral  pile  went  on,  it  was  through 
his  influence  that  the  Marquis  of  Wellesley  left  a  minute,  on  his 
retiring  from  the  Indian  government,  declaring  his  conviction 
that  suttees  mighty  a7id  ought  tA?  he  abolished.  The  truth  I  be- 
lieve to  be  this,  that  previously  to  the  return  of  the  marquis  in 
1805,  or  thirty  years  ago,  Dr.  Carey  submitted  three  memorials 
to  government,  the  first  relating  to  the  exposure  of  infants  in 
the  northern  parts  of  Bengal,  the  others  to  Saugur  island  and 
the  inhuman  practice  of  suttee.  The  two  first  evils  were  soon 
and  very  easily  abolished,  but  of  the  latter,  Carey  and  his  breth- 
ren never  lost  sight.  In  1817,  the  valuable  document,  drawn 
up  on  examination  of  the  Shastras  of  highest  authority,  to  prove 
that  it  was  decidedly  contrary  to  the  law  of  Munoo  ;  and  which 
after  being  laid  before  Mr.  Harrington,  the  first  judge  of  the 
chief  native  court  of  justice,  was  deposited  for  preservation  in 
the  library  of  Serampore  College,  may  be  adduced  in  proof. 
In  1822,  also  a  powerful  article  against  this  dreadful  custom 
was  inserted  in  the  quarterly  '  Friend  of  India,'  which,  after 
abundant  proofs  and  many  arguments,  closed  in  these  expressive 
w^rds  of  Scripture,  '  If  thou  forbear  to  deliver  them  that  are 
drawn  unto  death,  and  those  that  are  ready  to  be  slain ;  if  thou 

2  y2 


534  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

saj,  Behold  we  knew  it  not,  doth  not  He  that  pondereth  the 
heart  consider  it  ?  and  He  that  keepeth  thy  soul,  doth  not  He 
know  it  ?  and  shall  not  He  render  to  every  man  according  to 
his  works  ?'  After  this  the  Sumachar  Durpun^  or  Serampore 
Bengalee  and  English  newspaper,  lent  all  its  powerful  aid,  till 
on  the  4th  of  December,  1829,  '  the  burning  or  burying  alive 
of  the  Hindoo  widow,'  was  declared  by  the  governor-general  in 
council  to  be  illegal^  a  day  never  to  be  forgotten  in  India. 
There  have  been  other  individuals  who  lent  their  aid  ;  but  surely 
if  the  blessing  of  them  that  are  ready  to  perish  come  upon  the 
heads  of  any,  then  Carey  and  his  companions  must  come  in  for 
their  share. 

"  I  only  add,  that  in  the  attempt  to  establish  a  leper  hospital 
in  Calcutta,  Dr.  Carey,  it  is  well  known,  took  an  active  part. 
The  Benevolent  Institution,  in  the  same  city,  for  the  education 
of  the  indigent  and  neglected  Portuguese  children,  was  esta- 
blished by  the  senior  Serampore  brethren  in  1809,  and  has  con- 
tinued under  their  management  to  the  present  day.  They  were 
the  first  who  commenced  the  education  of  the  Huidioo  female, 
and  schools  for  boys  have  long  been  formed  at  their  stations 
scattered  over  India." 

Disinterestedness  and  Christian  generosity  were  prominent 
features  in  the  character  of  Carey  and  his  brethren.  The  total 
amount  of  the  sums  raised  by  their  exertions,  and  consecrated 
by  them  to  their  great  enterprise,  it  would  not  be  easy  to  esti- 
mate ;  but  Mr.  Anderson  states,  that  since  the  year  1827,  be- 
tween X7000  and  .£8000  sterling  have  been  devoted  by  the  Se- 
rampore brethren  to  those  great  undertakings  in  which,  through 
life,  they  have  been  employed.  But  we  hasten  to  notice  the 
concluding  scene  of  the  life  of  the  venerable  father  of  the  mis- 
sion, which  was  extended  until  within  two  months  and  a  week  of 
his  seventy-third  year.  God  gave  him  to  see,  in  that  foreign  land, 
the  climate  of  which  is  so  trying  to  a  British  constitution,  not 
only  his  children's  children,  but  even  the  third  generation  ;  for  it 
is  now  some  years  since  Dr.  Carey  became  a  great-grandfather. 

For  rather  more  than  a  month  before  his  decease.  Dr.  Carey 
had  been  confined  to  his  couch,  reduced  to  a  state  of  extreme 
weakness,  but  with  no  disease  but  a  gradual  decay  of  nature. 
He  suflfered  no  pain,  continued  to  sleep  at  night,  and,  being  laid 
on  his  couch,  remained  comparatively  at  ease  all  the  day, — un- 


WILLIAM   CAREY.  535 

^erstanding  what  he  heard,  but  unable  to  speak ; — his  mind  in 
the  most  placid  and  tranquil  state ; — having  not  a  doubt,  and, 
as  he  often  told  his  venerable  colleague,  Dr.  Marshman,  not  a 
wish  left  unsatisfied.  His  weakness,  however,  gradually  in- 
creased, until  he  became,  at  last,  almost  unconscious  of  what 
was  passing  around  him. 

•<The  last  Sabbath  of  his  life,"  writes  Dr.  Marshman  to  Mr. 
Anderson,  "  June  8th,  1834, 1  visited  him  about  noon,  eighteen 
hours  before  his  decease,  and  found  him  lying  on  his  couch  by 
the  side  of  the  table,  in  his  dining-room  above  stairs,  placed 
there  for  the  sake  of  the  air.  He  was  scarcely  able  to  articu- 
late, and,  after  a  little  conversation,  I  knelt  down  by  the  side  of 
his  couch  and  prayed  with  him.  Finding  my  mind  unexpectedly 
drawn  out  to  bless  God  for  his  goodness,  in  having  preserved 
him  and  blessed  him  in  India  for  above  forty  years,  and  made 
him  such  an  instrument  of  good  to  his  church ;  and  to  entreat 
that  on  his  being  taken  home,  a  double  portion  of  his  spirit 
might  rest  upon  those  who  remained  behind :  though  unable  to 
speak,  he  testified  sufficiently  by  his  countenance  how  cordially 
he  joined  in  this  prayer.  I  then  asked  Mrs.  Carey  whether  she 
thought  he  could  now  see  me.  She  said.  Yes,  and  to  convince 
me,  said,  '  Mr.  Marshman  wishes  to  know  whether  you  now  see 
him  ?'  He  answered  so  loud  that  I  could  hear  him,  <  Yes,  I  do,' 
and  shook  me  most  cordially  by  the  hand.  I  then  left  him,  and 
my  other  duties  did  not  permit  me  to  reach  him  again  that  day. 
The  next  morning,  as  I  was  returning  home  before  sunrise,  1 
met  our  brethren,  Mack  and  Leechman,  out  on  their  morning 
ride,  when  Mack  told  me,  that  our  beloved  brother  had  been 
rather  worse  all  the  night,  and  that  he  had  just  left  him  very 
ill.  I  immediately  hastened  home  through  the  college,  in  which 
he  has  lived  these  ten  years,  and  when  I  reached  his  room,  found 
that  he  had  just  entered  into  the  joy  of  his  Lord, — Mrs.  Carey, 
his  second  son,  Jabez,  my  son  John,  and  Mrs.  Mack,  being  pre- 
sent.'* 

'•  It  IS  an  interesting  fact,"  says  another  of  the  Serampore 
brethren,  "  that  the  very  last  thing  in  which  our  dear  doctor 
appeared  to  take  any  interest,  was  the  mission;  and  it  must  gra- 
tif}^  our  friends  at  home  not  a  little  to  know,  that  his  last  thoughts 
I'e^pecting  it  were  thoughts  of  gratitude,  thanksgiving,  and 
firaise." 


536 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


DR.  MARSHMAN.* 


T  is  with  feelings  of  the  deepest  regret  that 
we    announce    the  decease   of  the  Rev.    Dn 
Marshman,  after  a  long  missionary  career  of 
thirty-eight  years.     He  had  been  gradually 
sinking  during  the  year,  under  the  weight  of 
age  and  infirmities,  and  expired  at  Serampore 
on  the  5th  December,  1837,  at  the  advanced 
age  of  sixty-nine  years. 
The  Rev.  Dr.  Marshman  was  born  of  humble 
parentage,  in  the  village  of  Westbury  Leigh,  in 
Wiltshire,  on  the  20th  April,  1768,  where  the  cot- 
tage in  which  he  first  drew  breath  may  yet  be  seen 
►f  his  family  little  is  known,  except  that  they  traced 
eir  descent  from  an  ofiicer  in  the  army  of  Crom- 
11 — one  of  that  band  who,  at  the  Restoration,  re- 
linquished, for  conscience'  sake,  all  views  of  worldly 
aggrandizement,  and  retired  into  the  country,  to  support  them- 
selves by  their  own  industry. 

His  father,  a  man  of  strong  mind,  undaunted  intrepidity, 
and  inflexible  integrity,  passed  the  early  part  of  his  life  at  sea, 
and  was  engaged  in  the  Hind  sloop-of-war,  commanded  by 
Captain  Bond,  at  the  capture  of  Quebec,  the  action  in  which 
the  gallant  Wolfe  fell  ;  but,  shortly  after,  he  returned  to  Eng- 
land, determining  to  settle  among  the  humble  and  honest  ma- 
nufacturers of  his  native  country,  and,  taking  up  his  residence 
in  Westbury  Leigh,  he  married,  and  turned  his  attention  to  the 
weaving  trade.  Hence  he  was  subsequently  unable  to  afford 
his  son  any  education  beyond  what  his  native  village  supplied, 
except  in  his  own  Christian  principles,  and  he  lived  to  see  the 
principles  he  had  instilled  ripen  into  the  most  enlarged   and 


■*  From  the  "Friend  of  India,"  December,  1837. 


DR.  MARSHMAN  537 

active  benevolence.  Dr.  Marshman,  from  a  very  early  age, 
■exhibited  so  extraordinary  a  thirst  for  knowledge  as  to  convince 
his  family  and  friends  that  he  was  destined  for  something  higher 
than  the  loom.  At  the  age  of  eight,  he  first  began  a  course 
of  desultory  reading,  snatching  every  moment  from  labour  and 
play  to  devote  to  his  books.  He  has  assured  the  writer  of  this 
memorial,  that,  between  the  age  of  ten  and  eighteen,  he  had 
devoured  the  contents  of  more  than  five  hundred  volumes.  Thus, 
at  an  early  period,  he  was  enabled  to  lay  in  a  vast  store  of 
knowledge,  which,  improved  by  subsequent  study,  made  his 
conversation  so  rich  and  instructive.  After  reading  all  the 
volumes  which  so  humble  a  village  could  furnish,  he  extended 
his  researches  to  a  greater  distance,  and  often  travelled  a  dozen 
of  miles  out  and  home  to  borrow  a  book.  Having  no  one  to 
direct  his  pursuits,  he  read  promiscuously  whatever  fell  in  his 
way  with  the  utmost  avidity.  But  it  was  to  biography,  and 
more  particularly  to  history,  that  the  bent  of  his  mind  was  di- 
rected. So  much  so,  indeed,  that,  when  his  parents,  on  the 
death  of  an  elder  brother,  endeavoured  to  direct  his  thoughts  to 
the  joys  of  heaven,  he  declared  that  he  felt  no  disinclination  to 
contemplate  them,  provided  there  was  room  to  believe  that  the 
reading  of  history  would  not  be  incompatible  with  the  pursuits 
of  that  blessed  region.  Among  the  early  incidents  of  his  life, 
it  was  long  remembered  in  his  native  village  that  a  neighbour- 
ing clergyman,  passing  with  a  friend  through  Westbury,  while 
he  was  playing  at  marbles,  put  his  reading  and  memory  to  the 
test  by  a  long  series  of  questions  upon  the  more  ancient  history 
of  England,  and  declared  his  astonishment  at  the  correct  re- 
plies which  he  received  to  every  inquiry.  At  the  age  of  twelve, 
the  clergyman  of  his  own  parish  meeting  him  one  day  with  a 
book  in  his  pocket,  too  large  for  it  to  conceal,  asked  him  seve- 
ral questions,  and,  among  the  rest,  the  names  of  the  kings  of 
Israel  from  the  beginning  to  the  Babylonish  captivity,  and,  be- 
ing struck  with  the  accuracy  of  his  replies,  desired  him  to  call 
at  his  house  in  future  for  any  book  he  might  wish  to  read. 

On  his  reaching  the  house,  the  clergyman  begged  he  would 
tell  him  whom  he  thought  the  best  preacher,  the  dissenting  mi- 
nister of  the  town  or  himself.  With  the  certainty  on  the  one 
hand  that  the  first  named  excelled,  and  the  fear  on  the  other 
of  losing  the  promised  treat,  he  hesitated  for  a  moment;  but, 
68 


538  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

determining  not  to  purchase  even  this  at  the  expense  of  truth^ 
he  begged  to  be  allowed  to  refer  him  to  the  answer  of  Melville^ 
who,  when  asked  b}^  Queen  Elizabeth  whether  she  or  his  royal 
mistress  of  Scotland  excelled  in  beauty,  replied  that  each  was 
handsomest  in  her  own  kingdom,  and  desired  him  to  accept  that 
as  his  answer.  At  the  age  of  fifteen,  his  father  sent  him  up  to 
London,  to  Mr.  Cator,  the  bookseller,  in  the  Strand,  in  the 
hope  that  some  path  would  open  for  his  obtaining  a  livelihood 
in  a  sphere  more  congenial  with  his  tastes  than  a  w^eaver's  cot- 
tage. Here  he  was  employed  on  errands ;  but,  at  every  inter- 
val of  leisure,  availed  himself  of  the  new  facilities  he  enjoyed 
for  reading.  When  sent  out  with  parcels,  he  too  frequently 
spent  half  his  time  in  perusing  the  books  with  which  he  waa 
charged,  instead  of  taking  them  to  their  destination.  His  mas- 
ter declared  that  he  could  make  nothing  of  him,  and  that  he 
would  never  succeed  as  a  bookseller.  His  life  in  the  shop  was 
not  of  the  most  agreeable  description,  and  it  was  embittered 
by  the  prospect  of  being  condemned  to  a  life  of  such  unintel- 
lectual  drudgery.  On  one  occasion,  having  been  sent  to  the  Duke 
of  Grafton  with  three  folio  volumes  of  "  Clarendon's  History,'* 
and  several  other  books,  he  was  overcome  with  fatigue  and  de- 
spondency at  the  tasks  to  which  he  was  subjected,  and  walking 
into  Westminster  Hall,  laid  down  his  load  and  began  to  weep» 
But  the  bitterness  of  his  feelings  soon  passed  off;  the  associa- 
tions of  the  place  with  which  his  reading  had  made  him  fami- 
liar crowded  into  his  mind,  and  appeared  to  fill  him  with  new 
energy,  and  he  determined,  as  he  has  often  told  us,  in  however 
humble  a  situation  he  might  bo  placed,  to  continue  storing  his 
mind  with  knowledge,  till  the  fitting  opportunity  should  come 
round  for  his  emancipation.  He  returned  to  the  country  be- 
tween the  ages  of  sixteen  and  seventeen,  and  resumed  his  ma- 
nual occupations,  still  continuing  to  indulge  his  irrepressible  thirst 
for  reading.  He  now  turned  his  attention  to  divinity,  and  made 
himself  familiar  with  the  works  of  all  the  most  celebrated  di- 
vines, without  distinction  of  sect,  and  those  who  have  enjoyed 
the  advantage  of  conversing  with  him  on  religious  topics,  can- 
not have  failed  to  appreciate  the  industry  which  had  given  him 
so  vast  a  store  of  knowledge.  To  these  pursuits  he  added  the 
study  of  Latin.  The  strength  of  mind  displayed  in  these  in- 
tellectual pursuits  by  one  who  was  obliged  to  look  for  uis  daily 


DR.  MARSHMAN.  539 

bread  to  the  labour  of  bis  own  hand,  will  appear,  on  reflec  ion, 
to  form,  perhaps,  the  most  remarkable  trait  in  his  character. 
At  the  age  of  twenty-three,  he  married  the  granddaughter  of 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Clarke,  the  Baptist  minister  at  Froome ;  and  this 
change  in  his  circumstances  rendered  him  doubly  anxious  for  a 
different  sphere  of  life. 

At  length  the  long-expected  opportunity  turned  up.  The 
post  of  master  in  a  school  supported  by  the  church  in  Broad- 
mead,  in  the  city  of  Bristol,  became  vacant  ;  his  friends  urged 
him  to  apply  for  it.  He  came  up  to  Bristol,  underwent  an  ex- 
amination before  the  committee  of  management,  and  was  una- 
nimously accepted.  The  salary  was  small — £40  a  year  ;  but  it 
brought  him  into  a  new  circle,  where  his  energies  and  talent 
might  have  play.  He  removed  to  that  city  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
five,  and  obtained  permission  to  devote  the  time  not  occupied 
in  this  school  to  one  of  his  own.  This  seminary  was  soon 
crowded  with  pupils.  It  rose  rapidly  in  public  estimation,  and 
placed  him  at  once  in  circumstan'ces  of  independence.  Among 
his  scholars  was  the  late  lamented  and  amiable  Mr.  Rich,  the 
resident  at  Bagdad,  whose  work  on  Babylon  has  given  him  so 
just  a  celebrity.  But  the  chief  advantage  of  his  position  at 
Bristol  was  the  introduction  it  afforded  him  to  Dr.  Ryland,  the 
president  of  the  Baptist  Academy.  He  entered  as  a  student 
in  that  seminary,  and  devoted  every  moment  which  he  could 
spare  from  his  avocations  to  study  under  so  able  a  master.  He 
applied  diligently  to  the  Greek  and  Hebrew  languages,  and  sub- 
sequently added  to  them  Arabic  and  Syriac,  in  which  his  at- 
tainments, though  not  profound,  were  greatly  above  mediocrity. 
In  this  congenial  course  of  improvement,  he  passed  six  of  the 
happiest  years  of  his  life.  By  the  advice  of  Dr.  Ryland,  he 
prepared  himself  for  the  ministry,  for  which  his  great  theolo- 
gical reading  had  well  fitted  him,  and  there  was  every  prospect 
of  his  becoming  an  ornament  to  the  denomination,  in  his  native 
land,  with  which  he  was  associated.  But  a  nobler  field  of  exer- 
tion was  now  opened  before  him,  for  which,  in  the  economy  of 
Providence,  this  previous  training  appears  evidently  to  have 
been  intended  to  prepare  him. 

Dr.  Carey,  who  had  been  employed  for  six  years  in  India  in 
the  new  and  untried  field  of  missionary  labour,  while  his  fu- 
ture oUeague  was  completing  his  studies  at  Bristol,  had  re- 


540  LIVES   OF   EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

quested  the  Baptist  Missionary  Society,  of  which  Dr.  Ryland 
was  one  of  the  founders,  to  send  more  labourers  into  the  vine- 
yard. Dr.  Ryland  proposed  the  subject  to  his  pupil,  and  found 
that  it  was  not  altogether  new  to  his  mind,  as  the  perusal  of 
the  periodical  accounts  of  the  mission  had  begun  to  kindle  in 
his  mind  an  anxiety  for  India.  He  was  accepted  by  the  so- 
ciety, then  in  its  infancy,  as  a  missionary,  and  embarked  with 
Mr.  Grant,  one  of  his  own  pupils,  Mr.  Ward,  and  Mr.  Bruns- 
don,  in  the  Criterion^  an  American  vessel.  They  arrived  in 
the  river  in  October,  and,  intending  to  proceed  to  Mudnabatty 
to  join  Dr.  Carey,  were  advised  to  take  up  their  abode  tempo- 
rarily at  Serampore,  where  they  landed  on  the  13th  October, 
1799.  It  was  about  this  time  that  the  fear  of  an  invasion  of 
India  by  the  French  predominated  in  the  councils  of  India,  se- 
veral French  emissaries,  in  the  guise  of  priests,  having  been 
detected  about  the  country.  In  announcing  the  arrival  of  Dr. 
Marshman  and  his  associates,  the  printer  of  one  of  the  Calcutta 
papers,  who  had  never  heard  of  the  existence  of  a  Baptist  deno- 
mination, set  forth  that  four  Papist  missionaries  had  arrived 
in  a  foreign  ship,  and  proceeded  up  to  a  foreign  settlement. 
The  paragraph  could  not  fail  to  catch  Lord  Wellesley's  eye. 
The  captain  was  instantly  summoned  to  the  police,  and  in- 
formed that  his  ship  would  be  refused  a  port-clearance,  unless 
he  engaged  to  take  back  the  Papist  missionaries.  He  explained 
the  mistake,  and  in  one  respect  removed  the  fears  of  govern- 
ment ;  but  there  was  so  strong  a  disposition  manifested  to  ob- 
struct missionary  operations,  upon  a  plea  of  their  dangerous 
tendency,  that  the  missionaries  found  they  could  not  reside 
with  any  confidence  in  the  British  territories,  and  that  it  was 
wise  to  accept  of  the  countenance  and  protection  which  was  so- 
generally  offered  them  by  the  Danish  authorities.  Dr.  Carey 
felt  the  full  force  of  their  arguments,  and  soon  after  came  down, 
to  join  them,  and  thus  commenced  the  Serampore  mission. 

Three  congenial  minds  were  thus  brought  together  by  the 
appointment  of  Providence,  and  they  lost  no  time  in  laying  a 
broad  basis  for  their  future  operations.  They  threw  their  whole 
souls  into  the  noble  enterprise,  which  demanded  all  their  cou- 
rage and  zeal,  since,  from  the  British  government  they  had 
nothing  but  the  sternest  opposition  to  expect,  the  moment  the 
«xtensi"u  and  the  success  of  their  labours  should   bring  them 


DR.  MARSHMAN.  541 

into  public  notice,  The  resources  of  the  society  were  totally 
inadequate  to  the  support  of  all  the  missionary  families  now  in 
the  field.  Indeed,  Dr.  Marshman  and  his  associates  had  come 
out  with  the  distinct  understanding  that  they  were  to  receive 
support  only  till  they  could  support  themselves.  They  imme- 
diately began  to  open  independent  sources  of  income.  Dr. 
Carey  obtained  the  post  of  professor  in  the  College  of  Fort 
William,  then  recently  established.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Marshman 
opened  a  boarding-school,  and  Mr.  Ward  established  a  printing 
office,  and  laboured  with  his  own  hands  in  setting  the  types  of 
the  first  edition  of  the  Bengalee  New  Testament,  which  Dr. 
Carey  had  brought  with  hira.  Dr.  Carey's  motto,  "Expect 
great  things — attempt  great  things,"  became  the  watchword  of 
the  three.  They  determined,  by  a  noble  sacrifice  of  individual 
interests  and  comforts,  to  live  as  one  family,  and  to  throw  their 
united  income  into  one  joint  stock,  to  be  devoted  to  the  com- 
mon cause.  Merging  all  minor  differences  of  opinion  in  a 
sacred  anxiety  for  the  promotion  of  the  great  enterprise  which 
absorbed  their  minds,  they  made  a  combined  movement  j*or  the 
diffusion  of  truth  and  knowledge  in  India.  To  the  hostility  of 
government,  and  to  every  discouragement  which  arose  from 
the  nature  of  the  undertaking,  they  opposed  a  spirit  of  Chris- 
tian meekness  and  calm  perseverance.  They  stood  in  the  front 
of  the  battle  of  Indian  missions,  and,  during  the  arduous  strug- 
gle, which  terminated  with  the  charter  of  1813,  in  granting 
missionaries  free  access  to  India,  they  never  for  a  moment  de- 
serted their  post,  or  despaired  of  success.  When,  at  a  subse- 
quent period.  Lord  Hastings,  who  honoured  them  with  his 
kind  support,  had  occasion  to  revert  in  conversation  to  the  se- 
vere conflict  they  had  passed  through,  he  assured  them  that,  in 
his  opinion,  the  freedom  of  resort  to  India,  which  missionaries 
then  enjoyed,  was  owing,  under  God,  to  the  prudence,  the  zeal, 
and  the  wisdom,  which  they  had  manifested,  when  the  whole 
weight  of  government  in  England  and  India  was  directed  to 
the  extinction  of  the  missionary  enterprise. 

It  would  be  impossible,  within  the  limits  to  which  we  must 
confine  ourselves,  to  enumerate  the  plans  which  they  formed 
for  the  mission  for  translations  of  the  sacr<^d  Scriptures,  and 
for  education  ;  or  the  obstacles  which  tried  the  strength  of  their 
principles.     Neither  is  it  possible  to  individualize  Dr.  Marshman's 

2Z 


542  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

efforts  in  every  case,  for  so  complete  was  the  unity  of  their  de- 
signs that  it  seemed  as  if  three  great  souls  had  been  united  in 
one,  so  as  to  have  but  one  object,  and  to  be  imbued  with  one  im- 
pulse. But,  with  this  unity  of  design,  there  was  necessarily  a 
division  of  labour,  and  we  may  briefly  state,  therefore,  the  par- 
ticular objects  which  engaged  Dr.  Marshman's  time  and  atten- 
tion. In  1806,  he  applied  himself  diligently  to  the  study  of 
the  Chinese  language,  and  was  enabled  to  publish  a  translation 
of  the  entire  Scriptures,  and  a  grammar  in  that  tongue.  The 
Loll  Bazar  Chapel,  erected  at  a  time  when  the  means  of  reli- 
gious instruction  in  Calcutta  were  small,  and  when  religious 
feeling  was  at  so  low  an  ebb  that  even  Martyn  could  not  com- 
mand on  an  evening  a  congregation  of  more  than  twenty,  was 
mainly  indebted  for  its  existence  to  Dr.  Marshman's  personal 
efforts.  When  the  erection  of  it  was  suspended  for  lack  of 
funds,  he  went  about  from  house  to  house  raising  subscriptions 
for  it,  and  for  his  pains  was  exhibited  in  masquerade  at  an  en- 
tertainment given  to  Lord  Minto,  as  a  "  pious  missionary,  beg- 
ging subscriptions."*  To  him  the  Benevolent  Institution  in 
Calcutta  was  indebted  for  its  birth  and  subsequent  vigour.  The 
idea  of  it  struck  out  when  Dr.  Leyden,  Dr.  Marshman,  and 
Dr.  Hare,  were  dining  together,  and  the  prospectus,  drawn  up 
by  Dr.  Marshman,  was  carefully  revised  by  Dr.  Leyden.  He 
continued  to  act  as  secretary  to  the  institution  to  the  last  mo- 
ment in  which  his  health  permitted  him  to  act.  He  was  also 
associated  with  Dr.  Carey  in  the  translation  of  the  "  Ramayun" 
into  English,  of  which  three  volumes  Avere  published.  To  the 
plan  of  native  schools,  he  gave  up  much  time  and  labour,  and 
the  valuable  "  Hints"  which  he  published  in  the  form  of  a  pam- 
phlet, just  at  the  time  when  the  first  efforts  were  made  for  edu- 
cation in  India,  thirty-two  years  ago,  was  deemed  worthy  of 
being  incorporated  with  one  of  the  leading  publications  in  Eng- 
land. 

In  1826,  he  revisited  England,  after  an  absence  of  twenty- 
seven  years,  and  travelled  through  the  United  Kingdom,  en- 
deavouring, by  his  public  addresses,  and  in  private  conversa- 

*  His  friend,  Dr,  Leyden,  was  present  at  the  masked  ball,  and,  as  it  was 
SJiid  that  the  subscription  list  was  very  full.  Dr.  M.  endeavoured  to  discover 
his  representative,  that  he  might  ask  for  the  funds  ;  but  Leyden  would  never 
disclose  the  name,  which  led  Dr.  Marshman  to  tell  him  that  there  was  more 
huiooiu  than  honesty  in  the  transaction. 


DR.   MARSHMAN.  54? 

tioii,  to  urge  on  the  cause  of  missions,  and  there  are  many  now 
in  India  to  whom  this  notice  will  recall,  with  a  melancholy  plea- 
sure, the  warmth  and  animation  which  he  was  the  means  of 
communicating  to  their  minds  on  that  subject.  He  visited 
Denmark,  and  was  graciously  received  by  his  majesty  Frede- 
rick the  Sixth,  to  whose  steady  and  uninterrupted  protection 
the  mission  may  be  said  to  have  been  indebted  for  its  existence, 
when  assailed  by  the  British  government.  His  majesty  was 
pleased  to  grant  a  charter  of  incorporation  to  Serampore  Col- 
lege, upon  Dr.  Marshman's  petition.  He  returned  to  Serampore 
in  May,  1829,  and  joined  Dr.  Carey  and  his  associates  in  superin- 
tending the  mission  under  the  new  form  of  an  independent  asso- 
ciation, which  it  had  acquired.  In  June,  1834,  he  was  deprived 
of  this  venerable  friend  and  colleague,  with  whom  he  had  been 
permitted  to  act  for  thirty-five  years.  He  bore  the  sepa- 
ration with  more  firmness  than  was  expected ;  but  the  dissolu- 
tion, cemented  by  the  noblest  of  all  undertakings,  and  sancti- 
fied by  time,  made  a  deep  and  visible  impression  on  his  mind. 
All  the  veneration  and  aifection  of  his  younger  associates  coull 
not  fill  up  the  void  created  by  the  loss  of  Dr.  Carey.  He  ap- 
peared among  us  as  the  solitary  relic  of  a  past  age  of  great 
men.  The  activity  of  his  mind,  however,  though  with  occa- 
sional interruptions,  continued  till  the  mind  itself  appeared  to 
be  worn  out.  The  calamity  which  befell  his  daughter,  Mrs. 
Havelock,  at  Landour,  in  October,  1837,  produced  a  severe 
shock  to  his  feelings,  which,  added  to  increasing  infirmities, 
brought  him  gradually  lower  and  lower.  About  six  weeks  be- 
fore his  death,  he  was  taken  out  on  the  river  by  the  advice  of 
Dr.  Nicholson  and  Dr.  Voigt,  but  his  constitution  was  exhausted ; 
yet,  when  the  excitement  of  this  short  excursion,  which  was 
extended  to  Fort  Glo'ster,  had  given  him  a  small  return  of 
stnngth,  both  bodily  and  mental,  the  energy  of  former  days 
seemed  again  to  come  over  him,  and  he  passed  several  days  in 
arranging  plans  of  usefulness,  the  accomplishment  of  which 
would  have  required  years.  At  length,  on  Tuesday,  the  5th 
of  December,  1837,  he  gently  sunk  to  rest,  without  pain  or  sor- 
row, in  the  lively  enjoyment  of  that  hope  which  is  full  of  im- 
mortality. 

His  form  was  tall  and  athletic.     His  constitution  appeared 
to  be  constructed  of  iron.      He  exposed    himself  to  all  the  sb- 


544  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

verities  of  an  Indian  climate,  with  perfect  impunity.  He  en- 
joyed, till  within  the  last  year  of  his  life,  such  uninterrupted 
health  as  falls  to  the  lot  of  few  in  India.  During  thirty-seven 
years,  he  had  not  taken  medicine  to  the  value  of  ten  rupees.  The 
stiength  of  his  body  seemed  to  be  admirably  adapted,  with  the 
structure  of  his  mind,  to  fit  him  for  the  long  career  of  useful- 
ness he  was  permitted  to  run.  He  was  peculiarly  remarkable 
for  easel  ess  industry.  He  usually  rose  at  four,  and  despatched 
half  the  business  of  the  day  before  breakfast.  When  extraor- 
dinary exertions  appeared  necessary,  he  seemed  to  have  a  per- 
fect command  over  sleep,  and  has  been  known,  for  days  toge- 
ther, to  take  less  than  half  his  usual  quantity  of  rest.  His 
memory  was  great  beyond  that  of  most  men.  He  recalled 
facts,  with  all  their  minute  associations,  with  the  utmost  facility. 
This  faculty  he  enjoyed  to  the  last  day  of  his  existence.  Dur- 
ing the  last  month  of  his  life,  when  unable  even  to  turn  on  his 
couch  without  assistance,  he  dictated  to  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Yoigt, 
his  recollections  of  the  early  establishment  of  the  mission  at 
Serampore,  with  a  clearness  and  minuteness  perfectly  astonish- 
ing The  vast  stores  of  knowledge  which  he  had  laid  up  in  early 
life,  and  to  which  he  was  making  constant  addition,  rendered 
his  personal  intercourse  in  society  a  great  enjoyment.  His 
manners  and  deportment,  particularly  toward  his  inferiors,  were 
remarkable  for  amenity  and  humility.  To  his  family  he  was 
devoted  almost  to  a  fault,  so  that  his  enemies  found. in  this  sub- 
ject a  fertile  field  for  crimination — with  what  generosity  of  feel- 
ing let  every  parent  judge.  During  a  union  of  more  than 
forty-six  years,  he  was  the  most  devoted  of  husbands,  and  as 
the  father  of  a  family  of  twelve  children,  of  whom  only  six 
lived  to  an  age  to  appreciate  his  worth,  and  only  five  survived 
to  deplore  his  loss,  he  was  the  most  affectionate  of  parents. 

The  leading  trait  of  his  character,  more  especially  in  the 
earlier  part  of  his  career,  was  energy  and  firmness  ;  this,  com- 
bined with  a  spirit  of  strong  perseverance,  enabled  him  to  as- 
sist in  carrying  out  into  effect  those  large  views  which  he  and 
his  colleagues  delighted  to  indulge  in.  His  piety  was  deep  and 
genuine  ;  his  religious  sentiments  were  without  bigotry.  But 
the  most  distinguishing  feature  in  his  life  was  his  ardent  zeal 
for  the  cause  of  missions.  This  zeal  never  for  a  moment  suf- 
fered any  abatement,  but  seemed  to  gather  strength  from  every 


DR.  MARSHMAN.  545 

licw  difficulty.  The  precious  cause,  as  he  latterly  denominated 
it,  occupied  his  dying  thoughts  as  it  had  occupied  his  living  ex- 
ertions, and  the  last  question  which  he  asked  of  those  around 
him  was,  «'  Can  you  think  of  any  thing  I  can  yet  do  for  it  ?" 
This  zeal  was  united  with  a  degree  of  pecuniary  disinterested- 
ness which  has  seldom  been  surpassed.  He  considered  it  his 
greatest  privilege,  that  God  had  enabled  him  to  lay  on  the  altar 
of  his  cause  so  large  a  contribution  from  his  own  labours.  With 
the  means  of  amassing  an  ample  fortune,  he  did  not  leave  be- 
hind him,  of  all  his  own  earnings  in  India  for  thirty-eight 
years,  more  than  the  amount  of  a  single  year's  income  of  his 
tjer-iinary  in  its  palmy  days. 


646 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CIIllISTIANS. 


ROBERT    MORRISON. 


OCTOR  MORRISON'S  father  was  James  Mor- 
rison, who  was  born  in  Perthshire,  Scotland, 
and  who,  when  a  young  man,  removed  into 
Northumberland.      In  early  life  he  obtained  a 
livelihood    by    husbandr}^,    his    father,    (the 
grandfather   of  Dr.    Morrison)  having    been 
also  a  husbandman ;  but,  towards    the    latter 
end  of  his  life,  Mr.  James  Morrison  worked  at  a 
mechanical  trade,  (that  of  a  last  and  boot-tree 
maker,)  and  kept  several  workmen  under  him.    Ho 
was  a  pious  man,  and  was  for  many  years  an  elder 
of  a   Scots  church.     The  mother  of  Dr.  Morrisoii 
was  Sarah  Nicholson,   a  native  of  Northumberland 
/  f^W    ^^^  father  was  a  husbandman,  and  lived  near  Morpeth, 
A^    where  she  was  married  to  James  Morrison.     They  had 

seven  children,  four  sons,  and  three  daughters. 
Robert,  the  youngest  of  their  family,  was  born  at  Morpeth, 
January  5,  1782.  About  the  year  1785,  his  parents  removed 
to  Newcastle,  where  he  was  taught  reading  and  writing  by  his 
uncle,  Mr.  James  Nicholson,  a  respectable  schoolmaster;  and 
at  the  proper  age  became  an  apprentice  to  his  father.  At  the 
age  of  sixteen,  he  states,  he  became  "seriously  religious,"  and, 
on  the  first  of  January,  1799,  began  to  <«  keep  a  journal,  and 
to  study." 

It  is  stated  that  his  education  was  conducted  under  the  imme- 
diate superintendence  of  the  father,  beneath  whose  paternal 
roof,  both  his  religious  and  his  intellectual  character  were 
formed  ;  the  former,  by  means  of  catechetical  instructions,  to- 
gether with  those  delivered  from  the  pulpit  by  ministers  of  the 
Scottish  church ;  the  latter,  by  the  tuition  of  the  Rev.  W.  Laid- 
\er,  minister  of  the  Presbyterian  meeting-house  in  Silver  street, 
under  whom  Robert  Morrison  acquired  an  elementary  acquaint- 


ROBERT   MORRISON.  547 

ance  with  the  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew  languages,  some  sys- 
tematic theology,  and  the  art  of  writing  short-hand.  He  has 
recorded  that  he  began  the  study  of  Latin  on  the  19th  of  June, 
1801.  His  zeal,  as  a  member  of  a  society  for  the  relief  of  the 
friendless  poor,  also,  at  that  time,  attracted  the  particular  no- 
tice of  his  friends  and  neighbours. 

In  1802,  his  mother  died :  and  in  January,  1803,  having  then 
just  entered  his  twenty-first  year,  he  came  to  the  metropolis, 
and  was  received  as  a  student  or  probationer  into  the  dissenting 
academy  at  Hoxton,  on  the  7th  of  that  month.  There  he  con- 
tinued till  May  28,  1804,  when  he  was  accepted  as  a  missionary, 
and  was  received  under  the  patronage  of  the  London  Missionary 
Society,  who  sent  him  to  their  seminary  at  Gosport,  to  be  edu- 
cated for  that  service,  under  the  superintendence  of  the  Rev. 
David  Bogue. 

He  returned  to  London  in  the  summer  of  1806  :  and,  having 
chosen  China  as  the  field  of  his  missionar^^  labours,  he,  the 
better  to  qualify  himself  for  them,  obtained  the  assistance,  as  a 
preceptor,  of  a  young  Chinese,  named  Yong-Sam-Tae,  by  whose 
assistance,  and  with  the  practice  h^  acquired  in  forming  the 
Chinese  character  by  transcribing  a  Chinese  MS.  of  the  Four 
Gospels,  in  the  British  Museum,  and  another,  the  property  of 
the  Royal  Society,  he  made  considerable  progress  in  qualifying 
himself  for  his  undertaking.  In  addition  to  the  knowledge  he 
thus  acquired  of  the  Chinese  language,  he  had  gained  some  ele- 
mentary acquaintance  with  medicine  and  surgery,  by  attending 
Dr.  Blair's  course  of  lectures  on  medicine,  and  walking  St. 
Bartholomew's  Hospital;  and  some  insight  into  astronomy,  from 
the  instruction  of  Dr.  Hutton  of  Greenwich,  to  whom  he  had 
been  so  fortunate  as  to  obtain  an  introduction. 

Thus  qualified,  on  the  8th  of  January,  1807,  he  was  formally 
set  apart,  or  ordained,  according  to  the  pi-actice  of  the  Church 
of  Scotland,  in  the  Scottish  church  in  Swallow  street,  to  the 
work  of  a  Christian  missionary  among  the  Chinese ;  and,  on 
the  31st,  he  embarked  for  China,  via  America,  and  landed  at 
Macao,  on  the  4th  of  September,  1807. 

On  Mr.  Morrison's  arrival  at  that  place,  he  was  accommodated 
with  lodging  at  the  factory  of  the  American  agents,  Messrs.  Mil- 
ner  and  Bull ;  where  he  continued  to  prosecute  the  study  of  the 
Chinese  language,  and  assumed  tb'^   Chinese  habiliments;   but 


548  LIVES   OF   EMINENT    rTTRTSTIANS. 

these  he  relinquished,  on  discovering  that  his  assumption  of  them 
was  displeasing  to  those  whom  it  was  his  wish,  by  all  legitimate 
means,  to  conciliate.  The  first  sixteen  months  of  his  residence 
were  extremely  irksome,  and  attended  by  many  privations  and 
difficulties :  he  spent  the  day  with  his  Chinese  teacher,  study- 
ing, eating,  and  sleeping  in  a  room  under  ground ;  foregoing 
the  pleasures  of  intercourse  with  his  countrymen,  and  taking 
his  meat  with  the  Chinese,  who  taught  him  the  language. 

About  the  close  of  the  year  1808,  he  informed  the  Missionary 
Society  that  he  had  completed  a  grammar  of  the  Chinese  lan- 
guage ;  that  his  dictionary  of  the  same  language  was  daily  fill- 
ing up,  and  that  his  MS.  of  the  New  Testament  was  in  part  fit 
to  be  printed ;  although  he  deferred  sending  it  to  press  until  he 
should  be  more  deeply  versed  in  the  language,  in  order  that 
what  should  be  done  might  not  be  hasty  and  imperfect. 

On  the  20th  of  February,  1809,  he  married  Miss  Mary 
Morton,  a  young  lady  of  eighteen,  the  daughter  of  Mr.  John 
Morton,  a  gentleman  of  worth  and  respectability,  still  living,  a 
native  of  Dublin,  who  became  surgeon-in-chief  to  the  Royal 
Irish  Artillery.  After  the  union,  he  went  out  in  the  king's  ser- 
vice to  Ceylon,  where  he  remained  about  seven  years,  and  on 
his  return  to  England,  touched  with  his  family  at  China.  Mrs. 
Morrison's  mother,  Rebecca  Ingram,  was  born  at  Limerick, 
where  she  was  married  to  Mr.  Morton.  They  had  six  sons  and 
six  daughters.  One  of  the  former  is  the  Rev.  William  Morton, 
of  Bishop's  college,  Bengal,  who  is  distinguished  by  his  skill  in 
the  oriental  tongues ;  Mary,  the  youngest  daughter,  was  born 
October  24, 1791,  and  accompanied  her  parents  to  Ceylon.  The 
memoir  of  this  lady,  from  the  pen  of  Dr.  Morrison,  and  the 
letters  written  by  her  to  her  husband,  when  he  was  called  by  his 
public  and  literary  occupations  from  Macao  to  Canton  every 
season,  exhibit  her  in  a  most  amiable  light,  as  a  woman,  a  wife, 
and  a  mother.  Her  constitution  was  originally  good  ;  and  al- 
though on  the  passage  from  Madras  to  Penang,  her  slight  frame 
Buffered  greatly  from  the  effects  of  sea-sickness,  she  had  recov- 
ered on  their  arrival  in  China.  Her  temperament,  however, 
soon  became  nervous ;  and  during  the  ten  years  of  her  married 
life,  she  seems  to  have  endured  severe  trials,  and  sometimes  ex- 
treme anguish,  from  this  cause,  which  once,  in  1811,  threatened 
her  life.     In  one  of  her  letters  she  describes  her  disorder  as  some- 


ROBERT   MORRISON.  549 

times  reaching  such  a  height  as  to  be  almost  insupportable.  In  an- 
other, she  says,  '^  With  naturally  good  talents,  and,  when  reason 
has  the  sway,  a  tolerably  enlarged  mind,  yet  from  nervous 
weakness,  I  am  one  of  the  most  pitiable,  helpless  creatures  on 
earth."  Of  the  talents  possessed  by  this  lady,  her^letters  afford 
decided  proofs.  A  spirit  of  piety  and  resignation,  a  tone  of 
warm  benevolence  and  philanthropy,  a  strong  affection  for  her 
husband  and  her  children,  are  the  predominant  characteristics 
of  these  very  pleasing  epistles ;  but  they  likewise  evince  quali- 
ties of  the  mind,  as  well  as  of  the  heart,  confirming  the  remark 
of  her  husband,  that  she  possessed  an  acute  intellect,  improved 
by  much  reading.  In  the  unavoidable  privations  of  her  hus- 
band's society,  she  found  resources  in  books,  principally  history 
and  theology,  and  she  made  an  attempt,  more  then  once,  to  ac- 
quire the  Chinese  language,  but  found  this  effort  to  be  beyond 
her  strength.  Her  religious  sentiments  were  evangelical,  though 
not  of  an  exclusive  cast.  In  one  of  her  letters  to  her  husband, 
she  observes,  "  I  am  a  Christian  on  the  broad  scale,  and  feel 
good-will  towards  all  Christians  of  whatever  sect.  I  think  no 
one  can  lay  to  our  charge  any  party-spirit :  we  have  never 
shown  it  in  our  conduct,  because  we  did  not  feel  it." 

On  the  day  after  his  marriage,  he  received  information  that 
the  East  India  Company's  supercargoes,  to  whom  he  had  ren- 
dered some  assistance  in  translating  their  Chinese  correspond- 
ence, had  resolved  to  give  him  an  appointment  as  their  secretary 
and  interpreter.  He  appears  to  have  been  considered,  at  that 
early  period,  as  the  most  expert  Chinese  scholar  in  the  fiictories. 
The  correspondence  of  the  supercargoes  with  the  Chinese  had 
previously  been  conducted  in  a  very  circuitous  manner,  and  often 
with  great  diflSculty,  by  the  intervention  of  Portuguese  padres, 
of  the  college  of  St.  Joseph,  who  first  rendered  the  several 
papers,  of  which  Chinese  versions  were  required,  into  Latin, 
and  then,  with  the  aid  of  their  native  assistants,  into  Chinese. 

Mr.  Morrison,  as  appears  by  his  published  correspondence 
with  the  missionary  society,  had  in  view,  when  he  accepted  a 
civil  employment  under  the  East  India  Company,  and  in  perfect 
consistency  with  the  obligations  of  the  new  office  he  had  under- 
taken, to  further  the  object  of  his  mission  with  greater  effect, 
and  probably  with  less  expense  to  the  Society,  than  must  neces- 
sarily   have    attended  it,    had  he    noc   availed  himself  of  the 


550  LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

improved  mecans  and  powerful  aid  which  such  an  appointment 
could  not  but  afford  him.  He  had  sufficiently  acquainted  him- 
self with  the  peculiar  character  of  the  people  for  whose  moral 
and  spiritual  advantage  he  had  been  sent  to  China ;  and  knew, 
and  stated  in  his  reports,  that  the  Chinese  were  not  accessible 
bj  ordinary  means  ;  that  the  country  was,  in  fact,  closed  against 
itinerant  foi'eigners ;  that  "preaching  the  gospel,"  in  the  usual 
sense  of  the  phrase,  w\as  a  thing  utterly  impossible  in  China, 
and  would  probably  ever  continue  so ;  but  that  the  Chinese  pos- 
sessed a  literary  character  superior  to  that  of  any  other  nation 
in  the  world,  and  that  the  press  might  be  made  a  powerful 
agent,  and  probably  would  be  found  to  be  the  only  efficient  in- 
strument, whereby  the  strongholds  of  Paganism  in  China  might 
be  successfully  assailed.  Accordingly,  in  the  year  1812,  he 
commenced  operations  with  this  valuable  auxiliary,  and  printed, 
in  Canton,  in  the  Chinese  manner,  from  wooden  blocks,  an  edi- 
tion of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  in  Chinese. 

In  the  same  year  he  forwarded  his  grammar  of  the  Chinese 
language,  (which  he  completed  on  the  2d  of  April,)  through  the 
committee  of  supercargoes,  to  Lord  Minto,  the  Governor-Gene- 
ral of  India,  in  order  to  its  being  printed  at  the  Calcutta  press; 
but  the  obstacles  to  the  accomplishment  of  such  a  design  appear 
to  have  been  so  great,  that  the  work  did  not  make  its  appear- 
ance till  the  year  1815,  when  it  issued  from  the  Serampore 
Mission  press,  having  been  printed  there  at  the  East  India 
Company's  sole  expense,  from  types  specially  prepared  for  it  in 
England. 

In  1812,  (February  29th,)  his  fiither  died.  To  the  care  and 
comfort  of  his  aged  parent  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morrison  appear 
to  have  been  anxious  to  contribute  out  of  their  slender  means. 
The  following  extract  is  from  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Morrison  to 
tier  husband,  in  December,  1811 : — "  My  first  wish  is  to  assist 
our  aged  father,  (Mr.  James  Morrison  ;)  that  certainly  is  now 
our  duty.  If  this  is  not  compatible  with  decorating  our  house, 
I  would  most  certainly  deny  myself,  to  enable  us  to  send  yearly 
fifty  pounds  to  our  father.  Do  not  delay  a  moment,  dear  Robert, 
I  request  you,  in  fulfilling  both  our  Avishes,  for  I  a,m  sure  it  is 
as  much  yours  as  mine." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morrison,  at  this  period,  (1811  and  1812,)  ap- 
pear to  have  experienced  some  of  those  slights,  which  their  com- 


ROBERT   MORRISON.  551 

para  lively  humble  station,  and  perhaps  the  oflSct.  of  a  mission 
ary,  invited  from  the  vain  and  the  arrogant.  "  These  slights 
and  unpolitenesses,"  Mrs.  Morrison  observes,  in  one  of  her  let- 
ters, ''  should  be  indifferent  to  us ;  they  will  not  add  to,  nor 
take  from,  our  happiness.  Yet  one  cannot  help  being  hurt  at 
the  marked  inattentions  to  which  I  am  frequently  exposed  ;  I 
will  endeavour  to  be  indifferent  to  them." — *<I  believe  the 
Chinese  doctrine  of  bearing  insults  is  the  wisest  plan  to  follow. 
They  reason  very  simply,  and  very  well.  It  is  certainly  the 
person  who  causelessly  insults  us,  that  ought  to  be  ashamed, 
and  not  ourselves  for  bearing  patiently  with  him.  As  Christians, 
also,  we  have  a  much  higher  motive  for  being  humble  and 
peaceable." 

In  1813,  Mr.  Morrison  completed  an  edition  in  Chinese  of 
the  whole  of  the  New  Testament,*  of  which  he  forwarded  a 
few  copies  to  Europe  as  presents  to  his  friends  ;  and  particularly 
to  the  Bible  Society,  the  London  Missionary  Society,  and  the 
Academy  at  Hoxton.  Large  impressions  of  this  Testament 
have  since  been  printed ;  they  bear  date  in  the  years  1815, 
1819,  1822,  and  1827,  and  were  extensively  circulated  in  China. 

He  at  the  same  time  wrote  and  printed  a  Catechism  in  Chi- 
nese, with  a  tract  on  the  "Doctrines  of  Christianity,"  of  which 
15,000  copies  were  printed  and  circulated. 

In  the  early  part  of  1814,  it  would  appear  he  had  some 
thoughts  of  giving  up  his  situation  in  China,  and  going  to  Java 
or  Malacca.  In  April  of  that  year,  Mr.  John  Robert  Morrison, 
who  became  Chinese  secretary  to  the  superintendents  at  Can- 
ton, was  born.  A  daughter  had  been  born  the  year  before,  and 
a  son  in  1811,  who  died  an  infant. 

In  the  year  1815,  it  was  represented  to  the  Court  of  Direct- 
ors that  he  was  prosecuting  his  translation  of  the  Scriptures,  in 
the  face  (as  it  was  erroneously  conceived)  of  an  edict  of  the 
Emperor  of  China,  which  prohibited  the  Chinese  from  consulting 
certain  Christian  books,  prepared  and  published  by  the  Jesuits. 
The  court,  therefore,  ordered  that  his  services  to  the  factory 
should  be  dispensed  with.  On  this  occasion.  Dr.  Morrison 
addressed  a  letter  to  the  supercargoes,  in  which  he  vindicated 
his  conduct,  by  reminding  them  that,  in  accepting  office,  he  had 

*  The  correspondence  of  Mrs.  Morrison  refers  to  the  severe  affliction  of  her 
husband,  his  headaches,  &c.    occasioned  by  '  too  long  writing." 


552  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

not  consented  to  relinquish  his  important  missionary  trust ;  and, 
at  the  same  time  submitting  the  impropriety  of  identifying  his 
peaceful  and  legitimate  pursuits  with  those  of  the  Jesuits.  It 
was,  in  fact,  he  observed,  the  temporal  ascendancy  asserted  by 
the  Pope,  and  claimed  for  him  by  the  Jesuits,  which  had  excited 
the  jealousy  of  the  acute  Chinese,  an<l  occasioned  the  imperial 
edict,  and  not  the  quiet,  unobtrusive  dissemination  of  theological 
writings,  among  a  highly  literary  people.  These  explanations 
were  considered  satisfactory,  and  his  services  were  retained. 

In  1815,  also,  he  commenced  the  publication  of  his  '*  Diction- 
ary of  the  Chinese  Language."  The  first  number  was  printed 
on  the  29th  of  December,  1815.  This  work  was  printed  at  a 
press  established  expressly  for  that  purpose  at  Macao.  It  con- 
sists of  three  parts: — the  first  part  containing  the  Chinese  and 
English,  arranged  according  to  the  radicals,  fills  three  quarto 
volumes  of  about  900  pages  each,  bearing  the  dates  1815,  1822, 
and  1823.  It  was  by  this  systematical  arrangement  of  the  ele- 
ments of  the  Chinese  language,  that  Morrison  surmounted  a 
difiiculty,  which  had  till  then  been  found  insuperable  by  Euro- 
peans, in  their  endeavours  to  understand  the  speech  and  writings 
of  the  natives  of  this  immense  empire.*  In  the  advertisement, 
dated  April  9,  1822,  which  appeared  at  the  close  of  the  third 
volume,  the  author  modestly  pleaded  his  numerous  engagements, 
as  an  apology  for  the  time  which  had  been  spent  in  the  prepa- 
ration of  this  dictionary.  The  second  part,  which  fills  two 
volumes,  published  in  the  years  1819  and  1820,  contains  the 
Chinese  and  English,  arranged  alphabetically  ;  the  third  part, 
published  in  the  year  1822,  consists  of  English  words  with 
Chinese  meanings.  The  dictionary  was  completed  on  the  15th 
of  April,  1822. 

Dr.  Morrison's  Chinese  Dictionary  is  unquestionably  the  im- 
perishable monument  of  his  literary  fame :  it  occupied,  from  its 
commencement  to  its  completion,  thirteen  years  of  the  prime  of 
his  laborious  life.  He  dedicated  it  to  the  Court  of  Directors 
of  the  East  India  Company,  by  whose  orders  the  Company's  funds 
were  munificently  charged  with  the  entire  expense  of  its  publica 
tion,  amounting  to  about  12,000Z.  The  court,  also,  after  having! 
directed  the  distribution  of  a  hundred  copies,  generously  pre- 


The  Chinese  Dictionaries  are  mostly  arranged  in  this  manner. 


ROBERT    MORRISON.  553 

Rented  the  author  with  the  remainder  of  the  impresaiou,  for  cir- 
culation among  his  friends,  or  for  sale  on  his  own  account. 

After  he  had  completed  his  translation  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment in  1813,  he  obtained  the  co-operation  of  the  E,e\.  Mr. 
Milne,  who  had  been  sent  to  Malacca  by  the  London  Missionary 
Society,  in  charge  of  their  missionary  establishment  at  that 
place.  With  Mr.  Milne,  whose  life  fell  a  sacrifice  to  the  climate 
in  the  year  1822,  the  subject  of  this  memoir  maintained  a  con- 
stant and  cordial  friendship,  and  with  his  assistance  he  completed 
a  Chinese  version  of  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  on  the 
25th  of  November,  1819.  The  portion  of  this  work  which  was 
translated  by  Dr.  Milne,  consists  of  the  book  of  Deuteronomy, 
and  later  historical  books,  and  the  book  of  Job.  The  transla- 
tion and  publication  of  the  whole  of  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments, in  nineteen  volumes  octavo,  was  completed  in  the  year 
1819.  Leang-a-fa,  a  native  Chinese,  who  had  been  converted 
to  the  Christian  faith  by  Dr.  Milne,  assisted  in  passing  the  work 
through  the  press.  Other  editions  of  this  inestimable  work 
have  been  printed  since  the  year  1819,  at  the  expense  of  the 
British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society ;  and  Dr.  Morrison  meditated, 
and,  indeed,  had  undertaken,  previous  to  his  decease,  a  new  and 
revised  edition  of  the  sacred  Scriptures  in  Chinese,  under  the 
patronage  of  the  Bible  Society. 

In  1817,  he  pubhshed  a  "View  of  China  for  Philological 
Purposes,"  in  one  volume  quarto,  containing  a  sketch  of  Chinese 
chronology,  geography,  government,  religion,  and  customs,  de- 
signed for  the  use  of  persons  who  study  the  Chinese  language. 
This  volume  contains  an  outline  of  the  Chinese  dynasties,  with 
many  historical  facts,  of  which  more  recent  writers  on  China 
have  not  failed  abundantly  to  avail  themselves. 

In  the  same  year,  his  extensive  acquaintance  with  the  lan- 
guage and  literature  of  China  recommended  him  as  the  fittest 
person  to  accompany  Lord  Amherst  on  his  embassy  to  Pekin. 
Mr.  Morrison,  accordingly,  accompanied  his  lordship  as  his 
Chinese  interpreter ;  and,  among  the  incidents  of  that  eventful 
enterprise,  it  may  be  worthy  of  record,  that  it  was  to  him  his 
lordship  was  indebted  for  the  knowledge  of  the  fact,  that  the 
presents  to  his  celestial  majesty  were  forwarded  on  the  great 
canal,  in  barges,  under  flags  which  imported  that  they  were 
tribute  from  the  King  of  England  to  the  Emperor  of  China. 
70  '  8  A 


554  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

Mr.  Morrison  wrote  a  memoir  of  Lord  Amherst's  embassy, 
which  was  afterwards  published. 

On  the  24th  of  December,  1817,  the  Senatus  Academicus  of 
the  University  of  Glasgow  unanimously  conferred  upon  him  the 
degree  of  doctor  of  divinity,  in  token  of  their  approbation  of 
his  philological  labours. 

In  1818,  Dr.  Morrison  executed  a  project  which  he  had  long  had 
in  contemplation — the  establishment  of  an  Anglo-Chinese  col- 
lege at  Malacca,  in  which  the  languages  and  literature  of  the  two 
countries  should  be  interchangeably  communicated,  chiefly  wnth 
a  view  to  the  final  object  of  his  mission,  the  introduction  of  the 
Christian  religion  into  China.  The  London  Missionary  Society 
had  previously  obtained  a  grant  of  ground  for  the  erection  of  a 
mission-house ;  and  on  a  part  of  this  ground,  with  some  addi- 
tional land  which  he  obtained  by  purchase,  he  caused  his  college 
to  be  erected.  Towards  the  foundation  of  this  college  he  gave 
lOOOZ,  with  an  endowment  of  100?.  per  annum,  for  five  years  ; 
and  obtained  the  further  requisite  pecuniary  aid  from  his  friends 
in  Europe  and  Asia.  The  foundation  stone  was  laid  on  the  11th 
of  November,  1818,  by  Lieutenant-Colonel  William  Farquahar, 
with  the  concurrence  of  the  Dutch  authorities,  to  whom  th« 
settlement  was  then  on  the  eve  of  being  restored.  Dr.  Mor- 
rison made  other  pecuniary  grants  towards  the  support  of  this 
institution,  and  was,  till  his  death,  its  most  powerful  and  efficient 
patron,  in  obtaining  the  means  of  its  support  by  voluntary  con- 
tribution. He  also  drew  up,  for  the  better  management  of  the 
college,  a  code  of  laws,  by  which  it  continues  to  be  regulated, 
on  Christian  principles.  In  the  year  1825,  it  contained  twenty 
Chinese  students ;  and  according  to  the  latest  report,  its  utility 
and  prosperity  are  unabated.  In  1827,  Mr.  Fullerton,  the  Go- 
vernor of  Prince  of  Wales  Island,  recorded  a  minute,  in  which 
he  took  a  view  of  the  history  of  the  college ;  and,  after  recom- 
mending the  East  India  Company  to  afford  it  pecuniary  aid,  in 
the  expectation  that  it  would,  as  indeed  it  had,  become  the  de- 
pository of  the  literature  of  the  surrounding  nations,  and  that 
the  company's  servants  might  avail  themselves  of  it  as  a  means 
of  qualifying  themselves  for  their  respective  official  stations,  he 
added,  "  I  do  not  contemplate  any  interference  by  the  officers 
of  government  in  the  direct  management  of  the  institution, 
being  perfectly  satisfied  that  it  is  now  in  better  hands." 


ROBERT   MORRISOIS.  555 

Dr.  Morrison  visited  this  college  in  the  year  1822 :  and, 
during  his  stay  at  Malacca,  entered  into  arrangements  with  the 
view  of  forming  a  new  institution  at  Singapore,  in  connection 
with  the  college  at  Malacca,  but  without  disturbing  the  original 
plan  of  that  establishment.  The  languages  which  it  was  de- 
signed that  the  Singapore  institution  should  disseminate,  are 
the  Chinese,  Malayan,  Siamese,  Buggese,  Arabic,  and  Balinese. 
The  project  was  discussed  and  adopted  at  a  public  meeting,  held 
at  Singapore,  on  the  1st  of  April,  1823,  at  which  Sir  Stamford 
Raffles,  presided ;  who  appropriated  for  this  establishment  one 
hundred  acres  of  waste  land,  the  property  of  the  government, 
and  assigned  to  Dr.  Morrison  fifty  acres,  on  which  to  erect  a 
private  residence  for  himself,  whenever  he  should  reside  tempo- 
rarily at  Singapore.  The  erection  of  this  college,  towards 
which  Dr.  Morrison  obtained  private  subscriptions  to  a  consi- 
derable amount,  and  himself  gave  lOOOZ,,  commenced  on  an  ex- 
tensive scale,  on  the  4th  of  August,  1823,  Sir  Stamford  Raffles 
laying  the  first  stone.  The  return  to  Europe  of  that  distin- 
guished statesman  shortly  afterwards,  and  the  consequent  change 
in  the  government  of  Singapore,  co-operating  with  other  causes, 
appears  to  have  prevented  the  completion  of  this  munificent 
desio^n. 

in  1821,  Dr.  Morrison  lost  his  amiable,  aff'ectionate,  and  be- 
loved wife.  We  quote  his  own  words  :  "  On  Saturday  evening, 
June  9,  expecting  to  be  confined,  she  put  away  all  her  work, 
books,  &c.  in  daily  use,  and  did  not  finish  the  reading  of  her 
usual  chapter  and  prayer  till  about  eleven  o'clock  at  night. 
Next  morning  she  rose  and  dressed,  came  out  to  breakfast  and 
family  prayer,  but  was  unwell.  The  disease  was  cholera  mor- 
bus ;  and  that  evening,  being  Sunday,  June  10,  1821,  stretched 
on  a  couch,  with  Mrs.  Livingstone,  the  doctor,  and  Robert  by 
her  side,  after  one  day's  painful  sufi'ering,  she  ceased  to  breathe. 
She  was  interred  in  the  British  factory's  burial-ground  in 
Macao." 

Dr.  Morrison,  having  previously  returned  from  Malacca  to 
Canton,  embarked  at  Macao  in  December,  1823,  in  the  Water- 
loo, Captain  Alsager,  with  the  view  of  revisiting  his  native 
country,  whither  his  two  children,  a  son  and  daughter,  had  pre- 
ceded him.  In  March,  1824,  he  arrived  in  England,  and  was^^ 
received  with  marked  attention  in  the  several  religious,  literary, 


556  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

and  scientific  circles  in  England  and  Scotland,  in  which  he  made 
his  appearance ;  and  not  less  so  in  the  French  metropolis,  where 
he  spent  part  of  the  summer  of  1825. 

He  had  also  the  honour,  during  his  residence  in  England,  to 
be  enrolled  a  member  of  the  Royal  Society ;  and  was  pi-esented, 
as  one  of  the  most  eminent  Chinese  scholars  of  the  age,  by  the 
President  of  the  Board  of  Control,  to  the  king,  at  his  levee,  to 
whom  he  submitted  a  complete  copy  of  the  sacred  Scriptures 
in  the  Chinese  language,  together  with  some  other  productions 
of  the  Chinese  press.  He  brought  with  him  to  England  his 
Chinese  library,  consisting  of  several  thousand  volumes  in  every 
department  of  Chinese  literature.  It  was  his  intention  and 
chief  object,  in  bringing  this  library  to  Europe,  to  promote,  by 
means  of  it,  the  study  of  the  Chinese  language.  For  this  pur- 
pose he  projected,  and,  with  the  aid  of  friends  in  England, 
founded  an  institution  in  Bartlett's  Buildings,  Holborn,  which 
he  called  the  Language  Institution.  The  plan  of  this  establish- 
ment was  simple  and  unexpensive ;  and  it  was  based  on  the 
most  catholic  principles,  it  being  the  design  of  the  projector 
that  it  should  exist  for  an  object,  so  simple  and  easily  defined, 
the  study  of  language,  as  to  entitle  it  to  the  support  of  persons 
of  all  religious  denominations,  who  were  favourable  to  missions 
to  the  heathen.  It  was,  of  course,  open  to  all  missionaries, — 
both  to  returned  missionaries,  as  instructors  of  their  younger 
brethren,  and  to  those  younger  brethren,  who  wished  to  qualify 
themselves  for  future  labours,  by  receiving  the  counsels  and  in- 
structions of  those  who  had  preceded  them.  Thus  constituted, 
it  prospered  under  his  personal  superintendence,  and  several 
missionaries,  who  are  now  labouring  in  the  East,  owe  to  it  their 
earliest  acquaintance  with,  and  advances  in,  the  languages  in 
which  they  communicate  with  the  natives  of  the  countries  where 
they  labour ;  but  after  it  had  ceased  to  enjoy  his  personal  pre- 
sence and  direction,  it  declined,  and  in  about  two  years  from 
that  date  was  discontinued ;  a  fact  which  called  forth,  on  hig 
part,  expressions  of  the  sincerest  regret. 

He  also,  during  his  residence  in  England,  published  a  thin 
quarto  volume  entitled  "The  Chinese  Miscellany,"  consisting 
of  original  extracts  from  Chinese  authors,  in  the  native  charac- 
ter; with  translations  and  philological  remarks.  In  the  publi- 
caticn  of  this   work,  he   had  recourse   to  lithography, — an  art 


ROBERT  MORRISON.  557 

which  he  subsequently  described  as  peculiarly  well  a-lapted  to 
the  multiplication  of  copies  of  pages  written  in  the  Chinese 
character,  and  which  for  that  reason  he  has  introduced  into 
China. 

In  1824,  Doctor  Morrison  married  Miss  Armstrong  of  Liv- 
erpool, and  in  1826,  he  returned  to  China,  under  the  auspices 
of  the  Court  of  Directors  of  the  East  India  Company ;  accom- 
panied by  his  wife,  an  infant  son,  the  fruit  of  their  union,  and 
his  two  elder  children.  He  had  four  children  born  at  Macao, 
after  his  return  to  China,  making  altogether  seven  children. 

The  services  of  Dr.  Morrison  to  the  East  India  Company  are 
admitted  to  have  been,  on  some  occasions,  of  immense  value. 
He  was  more  than  once  called  into  council  at  Canton,  on  very 
trying  occasions,  and  whenever  his  advice  was  followed,  it  proved 
beneficial  to  the  company's  interests.  In  the  Lin  tin  affair,  in 
1821,  he  was  the  only  person  at  the  factory  capable  of  opposing 
argument  to  the  claims  of  the  Chinese,  and  he  did  so  with  sue- 
cess.  In  public  transactions,  as  in  private,  he  was  the  Christian ; 
effecting  the  greatest  objects  by  conciliation ;  and  there  is  good 
reason  to  believe,  that  had  his  advice  been  followed  on  some 
occasions,  when  it  was  disregarded,  considerable  inconvenience 
and  loss  of  property  would  have  been  avoided.  There  are  now 
but  few  among  the  company's  servants,  formerly  on  the  Canton 
establishment,  who  were  not  indebted  to  him  for  their  acquaint- 
ance with  the  language  of  China  :  indeed,  this  particular  branch 
of  his  duty,  (teaching  the  junior  servants  the  language,)  is  un- 
derstood to  have  been  that  for  which  the  Court  of  Directors 
consented,  temporarily,  to  his  drawing  those  allowances  from 
the  company's  treasury,  which  he  continued  to  receive,  and  lat- 
terly under  a  more  formal  recognition  on  the  part  of  the  court, 
till  within  a  few  days  of  his  decease. 

Talents  so  commanding,  and  success  in  literary  enterprise  so 
distinguishing,  as  were  possessed  by  Dr.  Morrison,  could  not 
fail  of  encountering  the  hostility  of  rivals  in  the  field  of  science. 
Even  in  England,  the  productions  of  his  mind  and  pen  often 
received  much  less  than  justice  from  one  portion  of  the  period- 
ical press,  and  on  the  continent  of  Europe  they  were  exposed 
to  a  formal  rivalry,  which  was  occasionally  productive  of  ludi- 
crous effects.  One  of  these  was  an  application  made  to  an 
English  gentleman,  in  habitual  intercourse  with  the  doctor,  and 


558  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

who  had  received  from  him  instruction  in  Chinese,  requesting 
that,  in  return  for  certain  literary  gratifications,  he  would  eulo- 
gize and  exalt  an  eminent  continental  professor  of  Chinese,  and 
decry  Morrison.  The  answer  given  to  this  request,  from  which 
the  following  is  an  extract,  is  as  creditable  to  the  writer  as  it  is 
to  the  character  he  undertook  to  vindicate.  "I  cannot  help 
regretting  that  you  should  indulge  in  such  hostility  to  Dr.  Mor- 
rision,  concerning  whom  I  must  declare,  (and  I  could  not,  with- 
out the  greatest  baseness,  do  otherwise.)  that  I  agree  with  Sir 
George  Staunton  in  considering  him  as  '  confessedly  the  first 
Chinese  scholar  in  Europe.'  It  is  notorious  in  this  country, 
(England,)  that  he  has  for  years  conducted,  on  the  part  of  the 
East  India  Company,  a  very  extensive  correspondence  with  the 
Chinese,  in  the  written  character;  that  he  writes  the  language 
of  China  with  the  ease  and  rapidity  of  a  native,  and  that  the 
natives  themselves  have  long  since  given  him  the  title  of  Le 
Docline  Ma.  This  testimony  is  decisive ;  and  the  position 
which  it  gives  him  is  such,  that  he  may  regard  all  European 
squabbles  regarding  his  Chinese  knowledge  as  mere  Batracho- 
myamachia^  (Battle  of  Frogs  and  Mice.)  What  Mr.  Majori- 
banks  stated,  in  relation  to  a  Japanese  version  of  the  dictionary, 
is  perfectly  correct.  The  Japanese  were  so  well  pleased  with 
the  alphabetical  arrangement  of  the  second  part,  that  they  have 
availed  themselves  of  Dutch  interpretations,  and  convert  it  into 
their  own  vernacuLir  lano;uao;e." 

The  circumstance  above  referred  to  occurred  in  1828,  when 
the  head  Japanese  translator,  at  Nangasaki,  was  employed  in 
translating  Morrison's  dictionary  into  Japanese,  from  a  copy 
which  had  been  presented  to  him  by  the  Dutch  naturalist,  M. 
Burger. 

It  is  well  known  in  the  Indian  circles,  that  he  was  the  first 
European  who  prepared  documents  in  the  Chinese  language, 
which  the  Chinese  authorities  would  consent  to  receive,  and  that 
the  first  document  so  prepared  by  him  and  presented,  was  sup- 
posed to  have  been  the  production  of  a  learned  Chinese ;  and 
means  were  employed  to  discover  its  author,  in  order  to  visit 
upon  him  the  vengeance  of  the  Chinese  law,  for  an  act,  regard- 
ed in  China  as  an  act  of  treason,  the  exertion  of  such  talents 
in  the  seivice  of  foreigners.  It  was  this  inquiry  which  gave 
publicity  to  the  circumstance,  and  established  Morrison's  cha- 


ROBERT   MORRISON.  559 

racter  as  a  Chinese  scholar.  But  it  is  unnecessary  to  multiply 
facts,  in  order  to  establish  the  just  literary  claims  of  this 
eminent  and  amiable  individual.  The  following,  however, 
60  strikingly  exhibits  the  manliness  and  benevolence  of  hia 
character,  that  it  would  be  an  act  of  injustice  to  his  memory 
to  omit  it. 

In  1829,  a  party  of  Chinese  navigators,  among  whom  was  one 
Teal-Kung-Chaou,  were  navigating  a  vessel  near  the  coast,  with 
fourteen  passengers  and  property  on  board ;  when  the  majority 
of  the  crew  rose,  and,  for  the  sake  of  the  property,  murdered 
the  passengers,  with  the  exception  of  one  individual,  who  es- 
caped to  land.  Teal-Kung-Chaou  had  been  no  party  to  the 
-crime,  he  having  endeavoured  to  prevent  its  perpetration ;  but, 
upon  the  survivor's  making  known  the  transaction  to  the  magis- 
trates on  shore,  the  w^hole  of  the  crew,  including  Teal-Kung- 
Chaou,  were  arrested  and  convicted,  on  evidence  which  was 
afterAvards  found  to  be  insufficient  by  the  law  of  China.  How- 
ever, identification  was  all  that  remained  to  be  done,  after  con- 
viction, previous  to  execution.  Accordingly,  the  court  was 
solemnly  opened  for  the  purpose  of  identification,  and  foreigners 
of  distinction  were  permitted  to  be  present ;  the  prisoners  were 
then  called  in,  and  produced  in  cages,  and  were  all  identified 
by  the  survivor  of  the  murdered  passengers,  as  i^articipes  crimi- 
nis  in  the  transaction,  except  Teal-Kung-Chaou,  who,  when  he 
atepped  out  of  his  cage,  was  seized  by  the  surviving  passenger, 
and  thanked  for  his  service  in  having,  amid  the  slaughter  of  his 
associates,  saved  his  life.  Yet  no  attempt  was  made  by  the 
Chinese  present  to  obtain  a  reversal  of  the  sentence  of  this 
man.  Leang-a-fa,  w^ho  had  accompanied  Morrison,  expressed 
a  desire  to  attempt  it ;  but  he  could  not  command  sufficient  at- 
tention. Perceiving  this.  Dr.  Morrison  himself  stepped  forward, 
and  eloquently  advocated  the  poor  man's  cause,  in  Chinese, 
with  such  ample  reference  to  Chinese  legal  authorities,  as  pro- 
cured the  release  of  Teal-Kung-Chaou,  and  obtained  for  the 
doctor  very  many  high  compliments  from  the  chief  judge, 
and  the  applause  of  the  whole  court.  According  to  Chinese 
usage,  the  redeemed  captive  presented  a  formal  u^tter  of  ac- 
knowledgments to  his  deliverer,  at  whose  feet  he  could  not  be 
prevented  from  performicg  the  accustomed  homage  of  *' bump- 
ing head." 


560  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

On  the  arrival  of  Lord  Napier  at  Macao,  with  the  king's  com- 
mission, constituting  the  new  arrangement  for  the  administration 
of  the  British  affairs  in  China,  he  found  Dr.  Morrison  there ; 
and,  in  pursuance  of  instructions  received  from  the  British  go- 
vernment, appointed  him  Chinese  secretary  and  interpreter  to 
the  commission.  Dr.  Morrison  was  then,  and  had  been  for 
some  time,  in  declining  health ;  he,  nevertheless,  consented  to 
accompany  his  lordship,  on  his  resolving  to  proceed  immediate- 
ly to  Canton,  and  was  with  him,  in  an  open  boat  and  in  a  storm 
of  rain,  on  the  Canton  river,  in  the  night  between  the  24th 
and  25th  of  July,  1834.  The  party  did  not  arrive  at  Can- 
ton till  the  morning  of  the  25th.  From  that  time,  disease 
made  rapid  advances,  and  he  expired  in  the  fifty-third  year 
of  his  age,  on  the  evening  of  the  first  of  August,  in  the  arms 
of  his  eldest  son,  John  Robert  Morrison.  This  gentleman 
has  been  appointed  his  father's  successor  in  the  duties  of  his 
offices. 

On  the  following  day,  the  second  of  August,  Dr.  Morrison's 
remains  were  carried  by  water  to  jNIacao.  They  were  followed 
from  his  residence,  No.  6,  in  the  Danish  Hong,  to  the  river-side, 
by  Lord  Napier,  and  all  the  Europeans,  Americans,  and  Asiatic 
British  subjects  then  in  Canton.  On  the  fifth  of  the  same 
month,  they  were  deposited  with  those  of  his  first  wife  and  one 
of  his  children,  in  the  private  Protestant  burial-ground  at  Ma- 
cao. He  was  attended  to  his  tomb  by  about  forty  of  the  most 
respectable  inhabitants  of  that  island  ;  the  Rev.  E.  Stevens, 
the  seaman's  chaplain  in  the  port  of  Canton,  officiating  on  the 
occasion. 

The  magnitude  of  the  loss  which  the  literary  world  sus- 
tained by  the  removal  of  this  distinguished  individual  was,  per- 
haps, most  correctly  estimated  nearer  to  the  scene  of  his  active^ 
laborious,  and  useful  life.  There  it  was  appreciated  and  ex- 
pressed, not  in  strains  of  unmerited  eulogy,  but  in  acknow- 
ledgments as  unanswerable  as  they  were  emphatic.  "  Countless 
millions  of  the  human  race,"  it  has  been  observed,  "  may  have 
to  rejoice  in  the  effects  of  his  toils :  and  hereafter,  when  the 
attainment  of  the  Chinese  language  shall  have  become  an  easy 
task,  and  a  succession  of  Chinese  scholars  shall  have  arisen  tc> 
profess  it,  it  will  still  be  to  him  that  they  are  indebted  for  the 
means  whereby  they  have   acquired  it :  and  long,   very  •  long,. 


ROBERT   MORRISON.  561 

will  it  be  before  there  shall  be  found  among  them  one  whose 
knowledge  of  China  and  Chinese  literature  shall  be  as  extensive 
and  solid  as  his — one  whose  mind  shall  have  been  as  thorough- 
ly saturated  with  Chinese  lore ;"  to  which  might  have  been 
added,  "and  one  whose  unfeigned  piety  and  domestic  and  so- 
cial virtues  were  as  conspicuous  and  indisputable  as  were  those 
of  the  late  estimable  and  lamented  Dr.  Robert  Morrison." 

From  his  first  appearance  in  China  he  seems  to  have  availed 
himself  of  that  most  important  means  of  acquainting  the 
heathen  with  one  of  the  elementary  principles  of  Divine  reve- 
lation— the  observance  of  the  Sabbath-day.  As  a  servant  of 
the  company,  he  had  only  lodgings  at  Canton,  where  he  spent 
the  portion  of  the  year  devoted  to  trade,  and  a  house  at  Ma- 
cao, where  he  resided  generally  for  the  larger  portion  of  the 
year :  both  these  residences  were  used  by  him  as  chapels,  in 
which  he  performed  religious  worship,  and  preached  usually 
four  times  in  the  day ;  twice  in  English,  to  such  of  his  country- 
men as  Avould  attend,  and  twice  in  Chinese,  to  his  Chinese 
servants  and  others.  The  effect  of  his  Chinese  sermons  appears 
to  have  been  the  conversion  of  a  few  natives  of  the  empire  to 
Christianity,  who  have  been  at  different  periods  baptized  by 
him  into  the  Christian  faith,  and,  inclusive  of  Leang-a-fa,  five 
of  them  have  been  destined  to  the  missionary  service.  He  also 
kept  a  school  for  Chinese  children  in  his  house  at  Macao,  em- 
ploying Chinese  preceptors,  and  giving  them  presents  to  induce 
them  to  send  their  children. 

In  1832,  he  lent  his  powerful  aid  to  the  objects  of  the  Tem- 
perance Society,  and  patronised  a  tea  and  coffee  shop  in  Canton, 
to  which  the  British  sailors  in  the  port  were,  by  public  adver- 
tisement, invited  to  resort,  in  preference  to  those  houses  where 
ardent  spirits  were  sold,  and  used  much  to  the  prejudice  of  the 
morals  of  those  who  partook  of  them. 

In  the  same  year  he  opened  the  floating  chapel  at  Macao, 
which  had  been  fitted  up  chiefly  by  the  exertions  of  the  Ameri- 
cans who  frequented  the  port. 

There  is  a  portrait  of  Dr.  Morrison,  from  a  painting  made 
by  Chinnery,  at  the  request  and  expense  of  the  company's  ser- 
vants and  others  at  the  factory,  which  gives  a  very  correct  rep- 
resentation of  his  person.  His  face  was  remarkable  for  a 
71 


562  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

smiling  aspect,  a  quick,  full  eye,  and  the  abundance  of  dark- 
coloured  hair  with  which  it  was  surrounded. 

His  engagements  through  life  had  been  such  as  to  induce  a 
habit  of  economizing  time,  and  to  prevent  much  of  that  inter- 
course with  society  which  he  would  otherwise  have  enjoyed. 
When  in  company,  his  address  was  mild  and  gentlemanly,  but 
his  desire  that  all  his  intercourse  should  tend  to  mental  improve- 
ment, manifested  itself  in  an  utter  disinclination  to  join  in  fri- 
volities; and  when  conversation  appeared  to  take  that  turn,  he 
usually  availed  himself  of  the  earliest  opportunity  of  withdraw- 
ing from  it.  From  his  own  family,  and  among  his  children,  he 
derived  the  greatest  delight ;  with  them  he  was  playful  as  a 
child,  and  embraced  every  occasion  to  instruct  and  to  enlarge 
the  sphere  of  their  information.  They  were  his  companions 
and  his  correspondents,  even  at  the  very  earliest  age  at  which 
they  were  capable  of  becoming  so,  and  their  attachment  to  him 
was  proportionably  ardent.* 

♦  For  the  above  memoir  we  are  indebted  to  the  "Animal  Biography." 


GEORGE  LORD  LYTTELTON 


563 


GEORGE  LORD  LYTTELTON. 


EORGE,  the  eldest  son  of  Sir  Thomas  Lyttel- 
ton,   of  Hagley,  in  Worcestershire,  was  born 
in  1709.     He  received  his  education  at  Eton, 
where   his  early  proficiency  attracted  notice, 
and  his  exercises  were  recommended  as  models. 
On    leaving   Eton,  he    was    placed   at    Christ 
Church,  Oxford.     While  at  college,  he  first  soli- 
cited public  attention  by  a  poem   on  the  battle 
of    Blenheim.      He   was,   indeed,   a    precocious 
and  verse. 


iter,  both  in 


prose 


His  "  Persian 


Letters,"  as  well  as  his  "Progress  of  Love,"  were 
composed  in  early  youth,  and  they  both  exhibit  the 
characteristics  of  juvenility ;  the  '<  Persian  Letters," 
however,    are   ingenious    and    amusing ;  although,  in 
after-life,  he  deemed  them   altogether  unworthy  of  his 
name,  and  was  opposed   to  their  being  inserted  in   any 
collections  of  his  works. 

Lyttleton  did  not  long  remain  at  the  university.  In  1728, 
he  commenced  his  travels,  and  made  the  usual  tour  of  France 
and  Italy.  On  his  return,  in  1730,  he  entered  the  House  of 
Commons  as  member  for  Oakhampton  ;  and,  although  his  father 
was  a  lord  of  the  admiralty,  evinced  the  most  uncompromising 
hostility  to  the  minister,  Sir  Robert  Walpole.  Frederick,  Prince 
of  Wales,  being,  in  1737,  driven  from  the  palace  of  his  father, 
George  the  Second,  kept  a  kind  of  rival  court,  and  gave  a  warm 
reception  to  the  opponents  of  the  government.  Lyttelton  was 
appointed  his  secretary,  and  he  appears  to  have  made  a  judicious 
and  liberal  use  of  his  influence.  Through  his  recommendation, 
Mallet  was  appointed  under-secretary,  and  Thomson  obtained 
a  pension  of  XI 00  a  year  from  his  royal  highness.  Pope  classed 
him  among  the  patriots  of  the  day ;  and,  in  return,  Lyttel- 
ton, on  being  upbraided  by  Fox  for  his  intimacy  with  Pope, 


564  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

whom  Fox  designated  as  an  unjust  and  malignant  libeller,  Lyt- 
telton  replied,  that  he  felt  himself  honoured  in  being  received 
inro  the  friendship  of  so  great  a  poet. 

To  the  enjoyments  derivable  from  fame  and  influence,  Lyttel- 
ton  now  added  those  of  the  most  perfect  connubial  felicity.  In 
1741,  he  married  Miss  Lucy  Fortescue,  and  became  the  father 
of  a  son  and  two  daughters.  On  her  death,  in  child-bed,  about 
five  years  afterwards,  he  wrote  a  monody,  which  is,  perhaps, 
the  best  of  his  poetical  productions.  With  his  second  wife,  the 
daughter  of  Sir  Robert  Rich,  to  whom  he  was  united  in  1749, 
Lyttelton  passed  a  few  years  in  domestic  strife,  and  a  separation 
between  them  eventually  took  place  by  mutual  consent. 

On  Walpole's  defeat,  Lyttelton  was  appointed  a  lord  of  the 
treasury ;  the  duties  of  office,  however,  by  no  means  absorbed 
his  attention.  It  appears  that  he  had  in  his  youth  entertained 
doubts  of  the  truth  of  Christianity ;  but  having  now  turned  hia 
more  matured  intellect  and  information  to  the  study  of  that 
important  subject,  the  result  was,  that  he  became  a  firm  believer, 
and,  in  1747,  gave  the  world  his  excellent  '*  Observations  on 
hhe  Conversion  of  St.  Paul."  This  treatise  attracted  immediate 
attention  and  applause ;  but,  probably,  the  praise  which  gave 
its  author  the  highest  satisfaction,  was  conveyed  in  the  follow- 
ing letter  from  his  father  : — "  I  have  read  your  religious  treatise 
with  infinite  pleasure  and  satisfaction.  The  style  is  fine  and 
clear ;  the  arguments  close,  cogent,  and  irresistible.  May  the 
King  of  kings,  whose  glorious  cause  you  have  so  well  defended, 
reward  your  pious  labours  ;  and  grant  that  I  may  be  found  wor- 
thy, through  tlie  merits  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  be  an  eye-witnes3 
of  that  happiness  which  I  do  not  doubt  he  will  bountifully  bestow 
upon  you !  In  the  mean  time,  I  shall  never  cease  glorifying 
God  for  having  endowed  you  with  such  useful  talents,  and  giving 
me  so  good  a  son." 

On  the  death  of  his  father,  in  1751,  Lyttelton  succeeded  to 
the  baronetcy  and  an  ample  estate.  The  house  and  park,  with 
which  he  adorned  his  patrimony,  raised  him  a  great  reputatiiii 
for  elegant  taste  and  judicious  munificence.  His  improvements 
at  Hagley  are  commemorated  by  Thomson  in  the  "  Seasons." 

Lyttelton  gradually  rose  to  higher  distinctions  in  the  state. 
In  1754,  he  was  made  cofferer  and  privy-councillor ;  and,  in 
the  following  year,  obtained  the  important  office  of  Chancellor 


GEORGE   LORD   LYTTELTON.  5G5 

of  the  Exchequer,  which,  however,  he  resigned  within  a  year, 
and,  on  the  dissolution  of  the  ministrj,  retired  entirely  from 
public  employment,  with  the  honourable  reward  of  a  peerage  for 
his  services. 

His  "  Dialogues  of  the  Dead,"  which  are,  perhaps,  better 
known  at  the  present  day  than  any  of  his  other  productions,  were 
published  in  1780.  Though  certainly  not  profound,  they  are 
lively,  judicious,  and  evidently  the  production  of  a  man  anxious 
to  give  every  support  in  his  power  to  virtue  and  refined  senti- 
ments. His  "History  of  Henry  the  Second,"  a  work  of  great 
labour,  research,  and  considerable  merit,  was  Lyttelton's  last 
contribution  to  literature,  and  occupied  a  large  portion  of  his 
declining  years.  His  anxiety  with  regard  to  the  correctness 
of  this  production,  appears  to  have  been  remarkable,  even  among 
the  most  curious  Instances  of  fastidious  authorship.  The  whole 
work  was  printed  twice  over ;  many  parts  of  it  were  passed 
three  times,  and  some  sheets  four  or  five  times,  through  the 
press.  Three  volumes  of  the  History  appeared  in  1764,  a 
second  edition  of  them  in  1767,  a  third  in  1768,  and  the  con- 
clusion was  published  In  1T71. 

Lyttelton's  life  was  now  drawing  to  a  close.  His  appearance 
never  betokened  strength  of  constitution  ;  he  had  a  slender 
frame  and  a  meagre  face :  he  lived,  however,  until  the  age  of 
sixty-four.  Of  the  piety  and  resignation  that  cheered  his  las^ 
moments,  an  Instructive  account  has  been  given  by  his  physician 
After  detailing  the  progress  of  the  patient's  disease,  the  writei 
says,  "  On  Sunday,  about  eleven  In  the  forenoon,  his  lordship 
sent  for  me,  and  said  he  felt  a  great  hurry,  and  wished  to  have 
a  little  conversation  with  me  in  order  to  divert  it.  He  then 
proceeded  to  open  the  fountain  of  that  heart  from  which  goodness 
had  so  long  flowed  as  from  a  copious  spring.  'Doctor,'  said 
he,  '  you  shall  be  my  confessor.  When  I  first  set  out  in  the 
world,  I  had  friends  who  endeavoured  to  shake  my  belief  in  the 
Christian  religion.  I  saw  difficulties  which  staggered  me,  but  I 
kept  my  mind  open  to  conviction.  The  evidences  and  doctrines 
of  Christianity,  studied  with  attention,  made  me  a  most  firm  and 
persuaded  believer  of  the  Christian  religion.  I  have  made  it 
the  rule  of  my  life,  and  it  Is  the  ground  of  my  future  hopes.  I 
have  erred  and  sinned,  but  have  repented,  and  never  indulged 
any  vicious  habit.     In   politics  and  public  life,  I  have   made 

3B 


560  LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 

public  good  the  rule  of  my  conduct.  I  never  gave  counsels 
which  I  did  not  at  the  time  think  the  best.  I  have  seen  that  I 
was  sometimes  in  the  wrong,  but  I  did  not  err  designedly.  I 
have  endeavoured,  in  private  life,  to  do  all  the  good  in  my  power ; 
and  never  for  a  moment  could  indulge  malicious  or  unjust  de- 
signs upon  any  person  whatever.'  "  He  died  on  the  22d  of 
August,  1773,  and  was  buried  at  Hagley. 

Although  certainly  not  eminent  in  the  highest  sense  of  the 
term,  the  talents  and  virtues  of  Lyttelton  entitle  him  to  a  place 
among  the  worthies  of  his  era.  Consistent  in  public  conduct, 
benevolent  in  disposition,  and  elegant  as  a  writer,  he  presents 
a  character  which  the  mind  contemplates  with  pleasure,  though 
not  with  high  admiration.  It  is  probable,  however,  that,  had 
jis  powers  been  exclusively  confined  to  literature,  they  were 
capable,  with  industrious  cultivation,  of  raising  him  to  a  height 
in  the  scale  of  merit,  which,  at  present,  he  cannot  be  said  to 
have  attained. 

Lord  Lyttelton's  son  and  successor,  a  man  of  some  talent, 
but  profligate  manners,  asserted,  shortly  before  his  death,  that 
an  apparition  had  not  only  warned  him  of  his  approaching 
decease,  but  had  indicated  the  precise  time  when  it  would  take 
place.  It  is  said  that  he  expired  within  a  few  minutes  of  the 
hour  which  he  had  mentioned  as  having  been  indicated  by  his 
unearthly  visitant ;  and,  for  a  considerable  period,  this  was  con- 
sidered the  best  authenticated  modern  ghost-story  extant.  But 
it  has  lately  been  stated,  that  Lord  Lyttelton  having  resolved 
to  take  poison,  there  was  no  miracle  in  the  tolerably  accurate 
fulfilment  of  the  prediction  he  had  promulgated.  "It  was  no 
doubt  singular,"  says  Sir  Walter  Scott,  in  one  of  his  amusing 
Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  '•  that  a  man  who  medi- 
tated his  exit  from  the  world,  should  have  chosen  to  play  such 
a  trick  upon  his  friends ;  but  it  is  still  more  credible,  that  a 
whimsical  man  should  do  so  wild  a  thing,  than  that  a  m^s>*enger 
should  be  sent  from  the  dead  to  tell  a  libertine  at  wha/  •'^  ^aise 
hour  he  should  expire." 


BEILBY   PORTEUS. 


667 


BEILBY  PORTEUS. 


HIS  eminent  English  prelate  was  birn  at 
York  in  1731.  He  passed  several  years  at  a 
small  school  in  his  native  city,  and  when  he 
was  thirteen  years  old  he  was  removed  to  a 
school  at  Eipon.  From  this  place  he  went 
at  an  earlier  age  than  usual  to  Cambridge, 
where  he  was  admitted  a  sizar  of  Christ's  Col- 
lege. His  personal  worth,  united  with  his  su- 
)erior  attainments,  both  classical  and  mathe- 
tical,  soon  procured  him  a  fellowship  in  his 
College,  and  by  the  active  exertions  of  his  friends 
was  made  esquire-beadle  of  the  University.  This 
he  did  not  long  retain,  but  he  chose  rather  to 
give  his  undivided  attention  to  private  pupils.  In 
1757,  at  the  age  of  twenty-six,  he  was  ordained  deacon, 
and  soon  after  priest. 
He  first  became  known  as  a  writer  by  obtaining  Seaton's 
prize  for  the  best  English  poem  on  a  sacred  subject.  On  this 
occasion  the  subject  was  "Death,"  and  the  production  of  Mr. 
Porteus  was  universally  deemed  one  of  great  merit.  In  1762, 
he  was  made  chaplain  to  Archbishop  Seeker.  His  first  pre- 
ferments were  two  small  livings  in  Kent,  which  he  soon  resigned, 
and  took  the  rectory  of  Hunton  in  the  same  county.  He  was 
next  appointed  prebendary  of  Peterborough,  and  not  long  after- 
wards, in  1767,  he  became  rector  of  Lambeth.  In  the  same 
year  he  took  the  degree  of  D.D.  at  Cambridge,  and  in  1769 
was  made  chaplain  to  King  George  III.,  and  master  of  the 
hospital  of  St.  Cross  near  Winchester. 

In  1773,  Dr.  Porteus,  with  a  few  other  clergymen,  applied 
to  the  bishops,  requesting  that  they  would  review  the  Liturgy 
and  Articles  for  the  purpose  of  making  some  slight  alterations. 
In  taking  this  step  they  proceeded  in  a  temperate  and  respectful 
manner,  and  the  answer  declining  to  entertain  the  application. 


568  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

which  Archbishop  Cornwallis  returned  in  his  own  name  and  m 
that  of  the  bench  in  general,  was  marked  with  great  kindness. 
Dr.  Porteus  and  his  friends  acquiesced  in  the  decision  of  the- 
bishops,  and  thus  the  affair  ended. 

In  1776,  Dr.  Porteus,  without  the  least  solicitation  on  his 
part,  was  made  Bishop  of  Chester ;  and  in  1787,  on  the  death 
of  Bishop  Lowth,  he  was  promoted  to  the  diocese  of  London, 
over  which  he  very  ably  presided  till  his  death.  In  1798,  he 
began  a  course  of  lectures  on  St.  Matthew's  Gospel,  which  he 
delivered  at  St.  James's  church  on  the  Fridays  in  Lent,  and 
which  he  afterwards  published.  These  lectures  have  been  per- 
haps the  most  popular  of  all  his  works.  He  died  May  14, 
1808,  in  the  seventy-eighth  year  of  his  age.  Though  Bishop 
Porteus  cannot  be  called  a  profound  scholar  or  divine,  he  was 
a  man  of  considerable  learning  and  ability;  and  he  pursued 
through  life  a  steady  course  of  pious  exertion  for  the  benefit  of 
his  fellow-creatures  which  procured  him  a  high  reputation  among 
men  of  all  parties.  His  works,  consisting  of  sermons  and  tracts, 
with  a  "Life  of  Archbishop  Seeker,"  and  the  poem  and  lectures 
already  mentioned,  were  collected  and  published  in  1811,  in 
five  vols.  8vo,  with  his  Life,  making  another  volume,  by  his 
nephew,  the  R/^v.  Robert  Hodgson,  now  Dr.  Hodgson,  dean  of 
Carlisle 


HENRY  MARTYN. 


HENRY  MARTYN. 

ARTYN,  known  as  The  Missionary^  born 
1781,  died  1812.  The  short  life  of  this 
amiable  and  zealous  man  may  thus  in  brief 
be  delineated.  His  birth  was  obscure.  He 
was  the  son  of  a  person  who  had  been  a 
labourer  in  the  mines  at  Gwennap  in  Corn- 
wall, but  who  was  probably  a  person  of  talent 
and  virtue,  as  he  raised  himself  to  the  situation 
of  clerk  to  a  merchant  at  Truro,  in  which  town 
Henry  Martyn  was  born.  He  had  his  education 
the  grammar-school  of  Truro,  and  having  ac- 
quired a  considerable  share  of  grammar  learning,  he 
for  a  scholarship  in  Corpus  Christi  College, 
ford;  but  failing  in  this,  in  1797,  he  entered  Saint 
College,  Cambridge.  Here  he  pursued  his 
studies  with  such  energy,  that  in  1801.  he  came  out 
senior  wrangler.  During  this  period  also  his  mind  became 
directed  with  more  than  common  earnestness  to  the  truths  of 
revelation.  The  death  of  his  father  is  thought  to  have  affected 
him  at  this  period  of  his  life  so  deeply  as  to  have  had  no  small 
share  in  turning  his  thoughts  into  the  channel  in  which  from 
this  time  they  continued  to  flow;  and  not  less  the  intimacy 
which  at  this  time  began  with  the  Rev.  Charles  Simeon,  the 
celebrated  evangelical  preacher  in  the  University  of  Cambridge. 
He  was  chosen  Fellow  of  St.  John's,  in  March,  1802 ;  but  out  of 
zeal  in  the  cause  of  religion,  he  finally  determined  to  devote 
himself  to  the  work  in  which  many  of  his  countrymen  had  by 
that  time  begun  to  engage  themselves,  of  propagating  Chris 
tianity  in  nations  which  had  not  received  it.  There  had  been, 
it  is  true,  a  society  in  England  associated  for  the  purpose  of 
propagating  the  gospel  in  foreign  parts,  but  a  new  impulse  and 
a  new  energy  were  given  to  such  operations  by  the  establish 
72  3  b2 


570  LIVES   OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

ment  of  Missionary  Societies,  supported  by  the  Methodists,  the 
Independent  Dissenters,  and  by  the  Evangelical  party  in  the 
church.  Mr.  Martyn  was  not  content  with  supporting  this 
object  by  his  influence  at  home,  but  he  proposed  himself  to  the 
African  and  Eastern  Missionary  Society  as  a  person  willing  to 
undertake  the  duties  of  a  missionary  in  the  East,  and  finally 
embarked  for  India  in  1805. 

It  now  became  necessary  that  he  should  make  himself  master 
of  the  languages  of  the  countries  which  he  was  about  to  visit ; 
and  with  what  success  he  studied  them  is  evidenced  by  the  fact 
that  he  had  the  superintendence  of  the  translations  of  the  New 
Testament  made  under  the  instructions  of  the  Missionary  So- 
ciety, both  into  Persian  and  Hindustanee.  He  made  also  some 
progress  in  an  Arabic  translation.  In  his  capacity  of  missionary 
he  traversed  large  tracts  both  of  India  and  Persia.  After 
above  five  years'  labour  in  these  countries,  his  health  began  to 
decline,  and  it  soon  became  manifest  that  he  would  see  his  native 
shores  no  more.  He  did  however  make  the  attempt  to  return ; 
but  his  strength  wholly  failing  him,  he  was  obliged  to  halt  at 
Tokat,  in  Asia  Minor,  about  250  miles  from  Constantinople, 
where  in  a  few  days  he  died.  The  regrets  in  England  which 
this  event  occasioned  were  great.  Much  was  expected  from 
him,  and  much  would  probably  have  been  done  by  him  in  the 
cause  to  which  he  had  devoted  himself.  As  it  was,  he  brought 
not  a  few  both  Hindus  and  Mohammedans  to  make  profession 
of  the  Christian  faith,  and  he  caused  the  Scriptures  to  be  ex- 
tensively dispersed  among  a  people  who  had  not  previously 
known  them. 

An  interesting  account  of  his  life,  compiled  from  various  elour- 
nals  left  by  him,  was  published  by  the  Rev.  John  Sargent,  1819. 


FELIX  NEFF. 


571 


FELIX  NEFF. 


ELIX  NEFF  was  born  in  1798,  and  brought 
up  bj  his  widowed  mother  in  a  village  near 
Geneva.  Like  many  other  excellent  men,  he 
'  owed  his  first  strong  impressions  to  the  effect 
produced  bj  maternal  vigilance,  and  to  lessons 
taught  by  female  lips.'  She  laid  the  founda- 
tion, and  the  village  pastor  instructed  him  in 
Latin,  history,  geography  and  botany.  Of  the 
few  books  within  his  reach,  Plutarch's  Lives,  and 
some  of  the  unobjectionable  volumes  of  Rousseau, 
ire  said  to  have  been  his  favourites ;  the  former,  be- 
cause they  filled  his  mind  with  the  exploits  of  great 
nen  ;  and  the  latter  because  they  encouraged  the  de- 
^ht  Vr'hich  natural  scenery,  whether  beautiful  or  grand, 
uted  in  him.  His  boyish  aspirations  were  for  military 
fame  or  for  scientific  research.  When  it  was  time  for 
him  to  enter  upon  some  way  of  life  in  which  he  could  earn  a 
subsistence,  he  engaged  himself  to  a  nursery-man  and  florist- 
gardener  :  and  at  the  age  of  sixteen  published  a  little  treatise 
on  the  culture  of  trees,  which  was  much  praised  for  arrange- 
ment, its  accuracy,  and  the  habit  of  careful  observation  that  it 
evinced.  At  seventeen,  however,  he  entered  as  a  private  into  the 
military  service  of  Geneva,  and  "exchanged  the  quiet  and  hum- 
ble walk  of  the  florist's  garden  for  the  bustle  of  the  garrison." 
Two  years  afterwards  he  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  sergeant 
of  artillery  ;  and  having  obtained  notice  by  his  knowledge  of 
mathematics,  he  made  that  science  his  study  during  his  continu- 
ance in  the  army.  That  continuance  was  not  long.  But  this 
second  change  of  pursuit  was  occasioned  by  no  fickleness  or  in- 
firmity of  purpose.  It  is  said  that  his  ofiicers  were  jealous  of 
the  influence  which  he  obtained  over  his  comrades  ;  that  he 
was  too  religious  for  them,  and  that  they  wished  him  out  of  the  ser- 


572  LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

vice; — the  serious  turn  of  his  mind  in  fact  became  so  marked, 
that  he  was  advised  to  quit  it,  and  prepare  himself  for  holy 
orders. 

Accordingly  he  quitted  the  array,  and  placed  himself  under 
proper  instruction,  after  due  deliberation  and  frequent  prayer^ 
That  he  might  the  better  mark,  learn,  and  inwardly  digest,  the 
Scriptures,  he  made  a  concordance  for  himself,  and  filled  the 
margins  of  several  Bibles  with  notes.  '^  Some  of  these  are  stiD 
in  possession  of  his  friends,  and  are  consulted  as  the  voice  of 
one  who  being  dead  yet  speaketh."  His  powers  of  acquirement 
and  his  aptitude  for  abstracted  study  were  remarkable,  and  his 
conversation  not  less  so  ;  it  was  prompt,  easy,  and  agreeable, 
but  always  to  the  point,  in  short  sentences,  and  in  few  words. 

He  first  assumed  the  functions  of  a  pastor-catechist,  and  was 
ultimately  called  to  the  duties  which  he  was  so  anxious  to  un- 
dertake, b}  one  of  those  Independent  congregations  of  England 
whose  ministers  are  received  in  the  Protestant  churches  of 
France.  He  was  ordained  in  London,  in  1823,  and,  within  six 
months  after,  was  appointed  Pastor  of  the  department  of  the 
High  Alps.  In  order  to  visit  his  various  flocks,  the  pastor  had 
to  travel  from  his  fixed  residence,  twelve  miles  in  a  western  di- 
rection, sixty  in  an  eastern,  twenty  in  a  southern,  and  thirty- 
three  in  a  northern  ;  and  Nefi*  persevered,  in  all  seasons,  in  pass- 
ing on  foot  from  one  district  to  another,  climbing  mountains 
covered  with  snow,  forcing  a  way  through  the  valleys,  choked 
up  by  the  masses  of  rocks  that  were  hurled  down  by  the  winter's 
storm,  and  partaking  ol  the  coarse  fare  and  imperfect  shelter 
of  the  peasant's  hut.  His  first  attempt  at  improving  his  peo- 
ple was  to  impart  an  idea  of  domestic  convenience.  Chimneys 
and  windows  to  their  hovels  were  luxuries  to  which  few  of  them 
had  aspired,  till  he  taught  them  how  easy  it  was  to  make  a  pas- 
sage for  the  smoke,  and  to  procure  admittance  for  the  light  and 
air.  He  next  convinced  them  that  warmth  might  be  obtained 
more  wholesomely  than  by  living  together  in  stables,  from 
which  the  muck  of  the  cattle  was  removed  but  once  during  the 
year.  He  taught  them,  also,  how  to  cultivate  their  lands  to 
advantage,  and  the  proper  remedies  to  be  used  in  cases  of  sick- 
ness. He  improved  their  manners,  which  had  been  so  savage 
that  the  women  had  not  been  permitted  to  sit  at  table  with  their 
husbands    or    brothers,   but   stood  behind   them,   and  received 


FELIX  NEFP.  573. 

morsels  from  their  hands.  He  laboured  hard  to  diifuse  know- 
ledge among  them ;  and,  with  a  view  of  providing  proper 
teachers  for  these  isolated  tracts,  he  persuaded  a  number  of 
young  persons  to  assemble,  during  the  most  dreary  part  of  the 
year,  when  they  could  not  labour  in  the  fields,  and  to  work  hard 
with  him  in  the  attainment  of  knowledge,  which  they  were  after- 
wards to  spread  among  their  neighbours.  His  unremitting 
labours  finally  destroyed  his  health,  and  he  was  obliged  to  quit 
the  inclement  district  in  which  he  had  accomplished  so  much 
good.  He  lingered  for  some  time  in  a  debilitated  state,  and  at 
length  died  at  Geneva,  April  12,  1829.* 

♦  Encyclopaedia  AmericaniL 


674 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 


WILLIAM   WILBERFORCE. 


ILLIAM  WILBERFORCE,  whose  name  a 
heartfelt,  enlightened,  and  unwearied  phi- 
lanthropy, directing  talents  of  the  highest 
ordei",  has  enrolled  among  those  of  the  most 
illustrious  benefactors  of  mankind,  was  born 
August  24,  1759,  in  Hull,  where  his  ancestors 
had  been  long  and  successfully  engaged  in 
trade.  By  his  father's  death  he  was  left  an 
orphan  at  an  early  age.  He  received  the  chief 
part  of  his  education  at  the  grammar  school  of 
PocklinfTTton,  in  Yorkshi^'e,  and  at  St.  John's  Col- 
^  lege,  Cambridge,  of  whicl.  he  became  a  fellow-com- 
moner about  1776  or  1777.  When  just  of  age,  and 
iparently  before  taking  his  B.  A.  degree,  he  was  re- 
turned for  his  native  town  at  the  general  election  of 
1780.  In  1784  he  was  returned  again  ;  but  being  also 
chosen  member  for  Yorkshire,  he  elected  to  sit  fov  that  great 
county,  which  he  continued  to  represent  until  the  year  1812, 
during  six  successive  parliaments.  From  1812  to  1825,  when 
he  retired  from  parliament,  he  was  returned  by  Lord  Calthorpe 
for  the  borough  of  Bramber.  His  politics  were  in  general  those 
of  Mr.  Pitt's  party,  and  his  first  prominent  appearance  was  in 
1783,  in  opposition  to  Mr.  Fox's  India  Bill.  In  1786,  he  intro- 
duced and  carried  through  the  Commons  a  bill  for  the  amend- 
ment of  the  criminal  code,  which  was  roughly  handled  by  the 
Lord  Chancellor  Thurlow,  and  rejected  in  the  House  of  Lords 
"without  a  division. 

At  the  time  when  Mr.  Wilberforce  was  rising  into  manhood, 
the  iniquity  of  the  Slave  Trade  had  engaged  in  a  slight  degree 
the  attention  of  the  public.  To  the  Quakers  belong  the  high 
honour  of  having  taken  the  lead  in  denouncing  that  unjust  and 
unchristian  traffic.     At  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century, 


"WILLIAM  WILBERFORCE.  575 

during  the  life  of  Penn,  the  Quakers  of  Pennsylvania  passed  a 
censure  upon  it,  and  from  time  to  time  the  Society  of  Friends 
expressed  their  disapprobation  of  the  deportation  of  negroes, 
until  in  1761  the^^  completed  their  good  work  by  a  resolution 
to  disown  all  such  as  continued  to  be  eno-ao-ed  in  it.  Occasion- 
ally  the  question  was  brought  before  magistrates,  whether  a 
slave  became  entitled  to  his  liberty  upon  landing  in  England. 
In  1765,  Granville  Sharp  came  forward  as  the  protector  of  a 
negro,  who,  having  been  abandoned  and  cast  upon  the  world  in 
disease  and  misery  by  his  owner,  was  healed  and  assisted 
through  the  charity  of  Mr.  Sharp's  brother.  Recovering  his 
value  with  his  health,  he  was  claimed  and  seized  by  his  master, 
and  would  have  been  shipped  to  the  colonies,  as  many  Africans 
were,  but  for  the  prompt  and  resolute  interference  of  Mr.  Sharp. 
In  several  similar  cases  the  same  gentleman  came  forward  suc- 
cessfully ;  but  the  general  question  was  not  determined,  or  even 
argued,  until  1772,  when  the  celebrated  case  of  the  negro 
Somerset  was  brought  before  the  Court  of  King's  Bench,  which 
adjudged,  after  a  deliberate  hearing,  that  in  England  the  right 
of  the  master  over  the  slave  could  not  be  maintained.  The 
general  question  was  afterwards,  in  1778,  decided  still  more 
absolutely  by  the  Scotch  Courts,  in  the  case  of  Wedderburn  v. 
Knight.  In  1783,  an  event  occurred  well  qualified  to  rouse  the 
feelings  of  the  nation,  and  call  its  attention  to  the  atrocities  of 
which  the  Slave  Trade  was  the  cause  and  pretext.  An  action 
was  brought  by  certain  underwriters  against  the  owners  of  the 
ship  Zong,  on  the  ground  that  the  captain  had  caused  132  weak, 
sickly  slaves  to  be  thrown  overboard,  for  the  purpose  of  claiming 
their  value,  for  which  the  plaintiffs  would  not  have  been  liable 
if  the  cargo  had  died  a  natural  death.  The  fact  of  the  drowning 
was  admitted,  and  defended  on  the  plea  that  want  of  water  had 
rendered  it  necessary;  though  it  appeared  that  the  crew  had 
not  been  put  upon  short  allowance.  It  now  seems  incredible 
that  no  criminal  proceeding  should  have  been  instituted  against 
the  perpetrators  of  this  wholesale  murder. 

In  1785,  the  yice-Chancellor  of  Cambridge  proposed,  as  the 
subject  for  the  Bachelor's  Prize  Essay,  the  question.  Is  it 
allowable  to  enslave  men  Avithout  their  consent  ?  Thomas 
Clarkson,  whc  had  gained  the  prize  in  the  preceding  year, 
again  became  a  candidate      Conceiving  that  the  thesis,  though 


576  LIVES   OP  EMINENT  CHKISTIANS. 

couched  in  general  terms,  had  an  especial  reference  to  the  Afri- 
can Slave  Trade,  he  went  to  London  to  make  inquiries  on  the 
subject.  Investigation  brought  under  his  view  a  mass  of  cruel- 
ties and  abominations  which  engrossed  his  thoughts  and  shocked 
his  imagination.  By  night  and  day  they  haunted  him;  and 
he  has  described  in  lively  colours  the  intense  pain  which  this 
composition,  undertaken  solely  in  the  spirit  of  honourable 
rivalry,  inflicted  on  him.  He  gained  the  prize,  but  found  it 
impossible  to  discard  the  subject  from  his  thoughts.  In  the 
succeeding  autumn,  after  great  struggles  of  mind,  he  resolved 
to  give  up  his  plan  for  entering  the  Church,  and  devoted  time, 
health  and  substance  (to  use  his  own  words)  to  "seeing  these 
calamities  to  an  end."  In  sketching  the  progress  of  this  great 
measure,  the  name  of  Wilberforce  alone  will  be  presented  to 
view ;  and  it  is  our  duty  therefore,  in  the  first  place,  to  make 
honourable  mention  of  him  who  roused  Wilberforce  in  the  cause, 
and  whose  athletic  vigour  and  indomitable  perseverance  sur- 
mounted danger,  difficulties,  fatigues,  and  discouragements, 
which  few  men  could  have  endured,  in  the  first  great  object  of 
collecting  evidence  of  the  cruelties  habitually  perpetrated  in 
the  Slave  Trade. 

In  the  first  stage  of  his  proceedings,  Mr.  Clarkson,  in  the 
course  of  his  application  to  members  of  Parliament,  called  on 
Mr.  Wilberforce,  who  stated,  that  "the  subject  had  often  em- 
ployed his  thoughts,  and  was  near  his  heart."  He  inquired 
into  the  authorities  for  the  statements  laid  before  him,  and 
became,  not  only  convinced  of,  but  impressed  with,  the  para- 
mount duty  of  abolishing  so  hateful  a  traffic.  Occasional  meet- 
ings of  those  who  were  alike  interested  were  held  at  his  house ; 
and  in  May,  1787,  a  committee  was  formed,  of  which  Wilber- 
force became  Parliamentary  leader.  Early  in  1788  he  gave 
notice  of  his  intention  to  bring  the  subject  before  the  House  ; 
but  owing  to  his  severe  indisposition  that  task  was  ultimately 
undertaken  by  Mr.  Pitt,  who  moved  and  carried  a  resolution, 
pledging  the  House  in  the  ensuing  session  to  enter  on  the  con- 
sideration of  the  subject.  Accordingly,  May  12,  1789,  Mr. 
Wilberforce  moved  a  series  of  resolutions,  founded  on  a  report 
of  the  Privy  Council,  exposing  the  iniquity  and  cruelty  of  the 
traffic  in  slaves,  the  mortality  which  it  occasioned  among  white 
as  well  as  black  men,  and  the  neglect  of  health  and  morals  by 


WILLIAM   WILBEKFORCE.  577 

which  the  natural  increase  of  the  race  in  the  West  India  islands 
was  checked ;  and  concluding  with  a  declaration,  that  if  the 
causes  were  removed  by  which  that  increase  was  checked,  no 
considerable  inconvenience  would  result  from  discontinuing  the 
importation  of  African  slaves.  Burke,  Pitt,  and  Fox  supported 
the  resolutions.  Mr.  Wilberforce's  speech  was  distinguished  by 
eloquence  and  earnestness,  and  by  its  unanswerable  appeals  to 
the  first  principles  of  justice  and  religion.  The  consideration 
of  the  subject  was  ultimately  adjourned  to  the  folk)wing  session. 
In  that,  and  in  two  subsequent  sessions,  the  motions  were 
renewed,  and  the  effect  of  pressing  such  a  subject  upon  the 
attention  of  the  country  was  to  open  the  eyes  of  many  who 
would  willingly  have  kept  them  closed,  yet  could  not  den)'  the 
existence  of  the  evils  so  forced  on  their  view. 

In  1792,  Mr.  Wilberforce's  motion  for  the  Abolition  of  the 
Slave  Trade  was  met  by  a  proposal  to  insert  in  it  the  word 
*' gradually  ;"  and  in  pursuance  of  the  same  policy,  Mr.  Dundas 
introduced  a  bill  to  provide  for  its  discontinuance  in  1800.  The 
date  was  altered  to  1796,  and  in  that  state  the  bill  passed  the 
Commons,  but  was  stopped  in  the  Upper  House  by  a  proposal 
to  hear  evidence  upon  it.  Mr.  Wilberforce  annually  renewed 
his  efforts,  and  brought  every  new  argument  to  bear  upon  the 
j[uestion,  which  new  discoveries,  or  the  events  of  the  times, 
produced.  In  1799,  the  friends  of  the  measure  resolved  on 
letting  it  repose  for  a  while,  and  for  five  years  Mr.  Wilberforce 
contented  himself  with  moving  for  certain  papers;  but  he  took 
an  opportunity  of  assuring  the  House  that  he  had  not  grown 
cool  in  the  cause,  and  that  he  would  renew  the  discussion  in  a 
future  session.  On  the  oOth  of  May,  1804,  he  once  more  moved 
for  leave  to  bring  in  his  bill  for  the  Abolition  of  the  Slave 
Trade,  in  a  speech  of  great  eloquence  and  effect.  He  took  the 
opportunity  of  making  a  powerful  appeal  to  the  Irish  members, 
before  whom,  in  consequence  of  the  Union,  this  question  was 
now  for  the  first  time  brought,  and  the  greater  part  of  whom 
supported  it.  The  division  showed  a  majority  of  124  to  49  in  his 
favour ;  and  the  bill  was  carried  through  the  Commons,  but 
was  again  postponed  in  the  House  of.  Lords.  In  1805  he  re- 
newed his  motion,  but  on  this  occasion  it  was  lost  in  the  Com- 
mons by  over-security  among  the  friends  of  the  measure.  But 
when  Mr.  Fox  and  Lord  Grenville  took  office  in  1806,  the 
73  3  C 


578  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

Abolition  was  brought  forward  bj  the  ministers,  most  of  whom 
supported  it,  though  it  was  not  made  a  government  question,  in 
consequence  of  several  members  of  the  cabinet  opposing  it. 
The  Attorney-General  (Sir  A.  Pigott)  brought  in  a  bill^  which 
was  passed  into  a  law,  prohibiting  the  Slave  Trade  in  the  con- 
quered colonies,  and  excluding  British  subjects  from  engaging 
in  the  foreign  Slave  Trade ;  and  Mr.  Fox,  at  Mr.  Wilberforcc's 
special  request,  introduced  a  resolution  pledging  the  House  to 
take  the  earliest  measures  for  effectuall}^  abolishing  the  whole 
Slave  Trade:  this  resolution  was  carried  by  a  majority  of  114  to 
15 ;  and  January  2,  1807,  Lord  Grenville  brought  forward  a  bill 
for  the  Abolition  of  the  Slave  Trade,  in  the  House  of  Lords,  which 
passed  safely  through  both  houses  of  parliament.  As,  however, 
the  king  v/as  believed  to  be  unfriendly  to  the  measure,  some  alarm 
was  felt  by  its  friends,  lest  its  fate  might  still  be  affected  by  the 
dismissal  of  the  ministers,  which  had  been  determined  upon. 
Those  fears  were  groundless ;  for  though  they  received  orders 
to  deliver  up  the  seals  of  their  ofiSces  on  the  25th  of  March,  the 
royal  assent  was  given  by  commission  by  the  Lord  Chancellor 
Erskine  on  the  same  day;  and  thus  the  last  act  of  the  admin- 
■stration  was  to  conclude  a  contest,  maintained  by  prejudice 
and  interest  during  twenty  years,  for  the  support  of  what  Mr, 
Pitt  denominated  "the  greatest  practical  evil  that  ever  afflicted 
the  human  race." 

Among  other  testimonies  to  Mr.  Wilberforcc's  merits,  we  are 
not  inclined  to  omit  that  of  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  who  in  his 
journal,  May  23,  1808,  speaks  thus  of  Wilberforce  on  the 
"Abolition."  Tliis  refers  to  a  pamphlet  on  the  Slave  Trade 
which  Mr.  Wilberforce  had  published  in  1806: — "Almost  as 
much  enchanted  by  Mr.  Wilberforcc's  book  as  by  his  conduct. 
He  is  the  very  model  of  a  reformer.  Ardent  without  turbu- 
lence, mild  without  timidity  or  coolness,  neither  yielding  to 
diiliculties,  nor  disturbed  or  exasperated  by  them ;  patient  and 
meek,  yet  intrepid;  persisting  for  twenty  years  through  good 
report  and  evil  report ;  just  and  charitable  even  to  his  most 
malignant  enemies;  unwearied  in  every  experiment  to  disarm 
the  prejudices  of  his  more  rational  and  disinterested  opponents, 
and  supporting  the  zeal,  without  dangerously  exciting  the  pas- 
sions of  his  adherents.". 

The   rest   of  Mr.  Wilberforcc's    parliamentary   conduct   was 


WILLIAM  WILBERFORCE.  579 

consistent  with  his  behaviour  on  this  question.  In  debatea 
chiefly  political  he  rarely  took  a  forward  part;  but  where  re- 
ligion and  morals  were  directly  concerned,  points  on  which  few 
cared  to  interfere,  and  where  a  leader  was  wanted,  he  nevei- 
shrunk  from  the  advocacy  of  his  opinions.  He  was  a  supporter 
of  Catholic  Emancipation  and  Parliamentary  Reform;  he  con- 
demned the  encouragement  of  gambling,  in  the  shape  of  lotteries 
established  by  government ;  he  insisted  on  the  cruelty  of  em- 
ploying boys  of  tender  age  as  chimney-sweepers ;  he  attempted 
to  procure  a  legislative  enactment  against  duelling,  after  the 
hostile  meeting  between  Pitt  and  Tierney ;  and  on  the  renewal 
of  the  East  India  Company's  charter  in  1816,  he  gave  his 
zealous  support  to  the  propagation  of  Christianity  in  Hindostan, 
in  opposition  to  those  who,  as  has  been  more  recently  done  in 
the  West  Indies,  represented  the  employment  of  missionaries 
to  be  inconsistent  with  the  preservation  of  the  British  empire 
in  India.  It  is  encouraging  to  observe,  that  with  the  exception 
of  the  one  levelled  against  duelling,  all  these  measures,  however 
violently  opposed  and  unfairly  censured,  have  been  carried  in  a 
more  or  less  perfect  form. 

As  an  author,  Mr.  Wilberforce's  claim  to  notice  is  chiefly 
derived  from  his  treatise  entitled  "A  Practical  View  of  the  pre- 
vailing religious  system  of  professing  Christians  in  the  higher 
^nd  middle  classes  in  this  country,  contrasted  with  Real  Chris- 
tianity." The  object  of  it  was  to  show  that  the  standard  of 
life  generally  adopted  by  those  classes,  not  only  fell  short  of, 
but  was  inconsistent  with,  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel.  It  has 
justly  been  applauded  as  a  work  of  no  common  courage,  not 
from  the  asperity  of  its  censures,  for  it  breathes  throughout  a 
spirit  of  gentleness  and  love,  but  on  the  joint  consideration  of 
the  unpopularity  of  the  subject  and  the  ^vriter's  position.  The 
Bishop  of  Calcutta,  in  his  introductory  essay,  justly  observes, 
that  "the  author  in  attempting  it  risked  every  thing  dear  to  a 
public  man  and  a  politician,  as  such — consideration,  weight, 
ambition,  reputation."  And  Scott,  the  divine,  one  of  the  most 
fearless  and  ardent  of  men,  viewed  the  matter  in  the  same  light; 
for  he  wrote,  <' Taken  in  all  its  probable  efi"ects,  I  do  sincerely 
think  such  a  stand  for  vital  Christianity  has  not  been  made  ia 
my  memory.  He  has  come  out  beyond  my  expectations."  Of 
a  work  so  genei  ally  known  we  shall  not  describe  the  tendency 


580  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS, 

more  at  large.  It  is  said  to  have  gone  through  about  twenty 
editions  in  Britain,  since  the  publication  in  1797,  and  more  in 
America;  and  to  have  been  translated  into  most  European 
languages. 

In  the  discharge  of  his  parliamentary  duties  Mr.  Wilberforce 
was  punctual  and  active  beyond  his  apparent  strength ;  and 
those  who  farther  recollect  his  diligent  attendance  on  a  vast 
variety  of  public  meetings  and  committees  connected  with  re- 
ligious and  charitable  purposes,  will  wonder  how  a  frame  na- 
turally weak  should  so  long  have  endured  the  wear  of  such 
exertion.  In  1788,  when  his  illness  was  a  matter  of  deep  con- 
cern to  the  Abolitionists,  Dr.  Warren  said  that  he  had  not 
stamina  to  last  a  fortnight.  No  doubt  his  bodily  powers  were 
greatly  aided  by  the  placid  and  happy  frame  of  mind  which  he 
habitually  enjoyed:  but  it  is  important  to  relate  his  own  opinion, 
as  delivered  by  an  ear-witness,  on  the  physical  benefits  which 
he  derived  from  a  strict  abstinence  from  temporal  affairs  on 
Sundays.  "I  have  often  heard  him  assert  that  he  never  could 
have  sustained  the  labour  and  stretch  of  mind  required  in  his 
early  political  life,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  rest  of  his  Sab- 
bath ;  and  that  he  could  name  several  of  his  contemporaries  in 
the  vortex  of  political  cares,  whose  minds  had  actually  given 
way  under  the  stress  of  intellectual  labour,  so  as  to  bring  on  a 
premature  death,  or  the  still  more  dreadful  catastrophe  of  in- 
sanity and  suicide,  who,  humanly  speaking,  might  have  been 
preserved  in  health,  if  they  would  but  conscientiously  have 
observed  the  Sabbath."  (Venn's  Sermon.) 

In  1797,  Mr.  Wilberforce  married  Miss  Spooner,  daughter 
of  an  eminent  banker  at  Birmingham.  Four  sons  survive  him. 
lie  died,  after  a  gradual  decline,  July  29,  1833,  in  Cadogan 
Place.  He  directed  that  his  funeral  should  be  conducted  with- 
out the  smallest  pomp;  but  his  orders  were  disregarded,  in 
compliance  with  a  requisition  addressed  to  his  relatives  by  many 
of  the  most  distinguished  men  of  all  parties,  and  couched  in 
the  following  terms: — ''We,  the  undersigned  Members  of  both 
Houses  of  Parliament,  being  anxious,  upon  public  grounds,  to 
show  our  respect  for  the  memory  of  the  late  William  Wilber- 
force, and  being  also  satisfied  that  public  honours  can  never  be 
more  fitly  bestowed  than  upon  such  benefjictors  of  mankind, 
earnestly  request  that  lie  may  be  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey, 


WILLIAM   WILBERFORCB.  581 

ftud  that  we,  and  others  who  may  agree  with  us  in  these  senti 
ments,  may  have  permission  to  attend  his  funeral."  The  at- 
tendance of  both  Houses  was  numerous.  Mr.  Wilberforce  was 
interred  within  a  few  yards  of  his  great  contemporaries  Pitt, 
Fox,  and  Canning. 

Among  the  other  honours  paid  to  his  memory  may  be  men- 
tioned the  York  meeting,  held  October  3,  1833,  at  which  it  was 
resolved  to  erect  a  public  memorial  in  testimony  of  the  high 
estimation  in  which  Mr.  Wilberforce's  character  and  services 
were  held  by  men  of  all  parties :  and  further,  "  that  it  is  advisable 
(if  the  sum  raised  be  adequate)  to  found  a  benevolent  institution, 
of  a  useful  description,  in  this  county,  and  to  put  up  a  tablet 
to  the  memory  of  Mr.  Wilberforce ;  but  should  the  subscriptions 
be  insufficient  to  accomplish  such  an  object,  that  they  should  be 
applied  to  the  erection  of  a  monument."  An  asylum  for  the 
indigent  blind  has  in  consequence  been  founded.  At  Hull  a 
monument  has  likewise  been  erected  to  his  memory  by  public 
subscription;  and  a  statue  by  Joseph  is  about  to  be  placed  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  also  by  subscription,  the  surplus  of  the 
fund  thus  raised  being  reserved  for  founding  an  institution  con- 
genial to  his  principles,  as  soon  «^  it  shall  be  sufficient  for  the 
purpose. 

In  1838  a  complete  life  of  this  eminent  man  was  published  by 
his  sons,  in  five  volumes.  The  letters,  and  other  original  matter 
of  these  volumes,  are  of  the  highest  interest. 


582 


LIVE.S   OF   EMliNENT   CHRISTIANS 


JOHN   FREDERICK    OBERLIN. 


OHN  FREDERICK  OBERLIN  was  born  on 
the  thirty-first  day  of  August,  1740,  at  Stras- 
burgh,  in  Germany.  From  his  childhood  he 
was  remarkable  for  his  thoughtful  and  amia- 
ble disposition,  and  many  anecdotes  are  told 
-^'  of  his  infancy  illustrating  these  qualities.  His 
^.  father  was  poor,  but  he  every  week  gave  each 
of  his  children  a  penny  to  spend  as  they  choose. 
Little  Frederick  kept  alLhe  received  in  a  box,  and 
when  he  saw  by  his  father's  face  on  a  Saturday 
light  that  he  could  not  pay  the  shoemaker,  or  the 
tailor,  he  would  bring  his  treasure  to  help  to  make 
up  the  amount.  Once  when  the  box  was  nearly  full 
of  savings,  he  saw  some  malicious  boys  knock  down  a 
basket  of  eggs,  which  a  countrywoman  carried  on  her 
head.  Sorry  for  the  poor  woman's  loss  and  trouble, 
he  ran  home  to  the  box,  and  gave  the  woman  all  he  had  in  it. 
At  another  time,  he  saw  an  infirm  old  woman  in  a  shop  trying 
to  get  an  article  at  a  few  cents  below  its  price,  which  was  more 
than  all  the  money  she  had.  Frederick  waited  until  she  left 
the  shop  in  disappointment,  then  put  the  sum  she  wanted  into 
the  merchant's  hand,  whispered  to  him  to  call  her  back,  and 
then  ran  away  before  she  had  time  to  thank  him. 

His  pious  mother  improved  this  beautiful  disposition  to  the 
utmost,  and  to  her  he  always  acknowledged  himself  indebted 
for  the  love  of  the  "  Things  that  are  Excellent,"  and  the  desires 
he  afterwards  felt  to  be  the  instrument  of  doing  good.  In  the 
evening  she  assembled  the  family  round  a  table,  and  while  they 
endeavoured  to  copy  pictures  their  father  had  drawn  for  tliem, 
she  read  aloud  an  instructive  book.  When  they  were  about  to 
separate  for  the  night,  thev  seldom  failed  to  ask  for  a  hymn 
from  dear  mamma,  and  in  tiie  nymn  and  the  prayer  which  fol 


JOHN   FREDERICK   OBERLIN.  583 

lowed  It  they  were  led  to  him  who  said  ^^  Suffer  little  children 
to  come  unto  me." 

His  father  had  seven  sons,  and  he  used  to  teach  them  the  mili- 
tary exercises,  of  which  Frederick  became  very  fond  ;  but  his 
father  did  not  wish  him  to  become  a  soldier,  so  he  gave  these 
up  and  attended  more  closely  to  study.  He  entered  the  univer- 
sity as  a  theological  student,  and  while  there,  the  preaching  of 
an  earnest  minister  had  so  great  an  effect  upon  him,  that  at  the 
age  of  twenty  he  solemnly  devoted  himself  by  a  written  cove- 
nant to  the  service  of  God. 

When  his  studies  were  finished  he  was  ordained  a  minister, 
but  did  not  for  seven  years  undertake  any  particular  charge  in 
that  character,  employing  himself  as  a  private  tutor  in  the 
family  of  a  physician,  where  he  learned  much  of  the  art  of  medi- 
cine that  was  very  useful  to  him  in  his  future  life.  An  appoint- 
ment as  chaplain  in  the  French  army  was  offered  to  him  in  1766, 
which  he  determined  to  accept,  and  he  commenced  preparations 
for  the  situation,  when  Mr.  Stouber  came  to  ask  him  to  take 
charge  of  the  Ban  de  la  Roche.  He  found  Oberlin  living  in 
the  greatest  simplicity,  in  a  little  room  up  three  pair  of  stairs 
with  scarcely  any  furniture  ;  being  in  the  habit  of  dining  at  his 
father's  and  bringing  thence  a  piece  of  bread  which  served  for 
his  supper.  He  accepted  Mr.  Stouber's  invitation,  and  removed 
to  Waldbach  on  the  30th  of  March,  1767,  being  then  in  the  twen- 
ty-seventh year  of  his  age. 

The  Ban  de  la  Roche  takes  its  name  from  the  castle  La 
Roche,  the  Rock,  around  which  the  Ban  or  district  extends. 
It  is  a  mountainous  region  in  the  north-east  of  France,  consist- 
ing of  two  parishes,  one  called  Rothau,  the  other  comprising 
five  hamlets  called  Waldbach.  This  village  of  Waldbach,  at 
which  Oberlin  resided,  is  situated  on  a  mountain  at  the  height  of 
eighteen  hundred  feet,  and  the  Ban  presents  th'^  greatest  variety 
of  temperature  and  productiveness,  the  parts  on  the  tops  of  the 
mountains  being  intensely  cold  while  the  delights  of  spring  reign 
in  the  valleys  below.  The  district  contains  only  about  nine  thou- 
sand acres  in  all,  one-third  of  which  are  covered  with  w^ood.  The 
winter  commences  in  September,  and  the  snow  remains  on  the  high 
grounds  without  melting  until  the  succeeding  May  or  June. 
So  little  vegetation  is  there  on  these  heights  that  the  peasants 
gay  that  a  \^  oman  can  carry  home  in  her  apron  all  that  her  hus- 


584  LIASES   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

band  can  mow  in  a  day.  In  the  17th  century,  this  district  was 
laid  waste  by  the  wars  which  were  carried  on  in  this  part  of 
France,  and  the  poor  people  who  resided  in  it  were  reduced  to 
a  wretched  state,  there  being  no  roads  from  one  place  to  another, 
and  but  little  land  cultivated.  Their  condition,  however,  gave 
them  an  exemption  from  the  persecution  which  the  Roman 
Catholics  maintained  against  their  Protestant  brethren  in  other 
parts  of  France. 

A  compassionate  Lutheran  minister  named  Stouber  was  so 
kind  as  to  leave  Germany  in  1750,  and  come  among  these  poor 
people,  with  the  design  of  improving  their  condition.  An  anec- 
dote he  relates  will  serve  to  show  the  nature  of  the  task  he  now 
commenced  and  which  Oberlin  continued.  He  asked  on  his 
arrival  to  be  shown  to  the  principal  school-house,  and  was  led  to 
a  miserable  cottage  where  a  number  of  children  were  crowded 
together  without  any  occupation,  and  in  so  wild  and  noisy  a 
state  that  it  was  a  matter  of  difficulty  to  gain  any  reply  to  his 
inquiries  for  the  master. 

"  There  he  is,"  said  one,  after  he  had  obtained  a  little  silence, 
pointing  to  a  withered  old  man  who  lay  on  a  little  bed  in  one 
corner  of  the  apartment. 

"Are  you  the  schoolmaster,  my  good  friend?"  inquired 
Stouber. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  And  what  do  you  teach  the  children  ?" 

<'  Nothing,  sir." 

"  Nothing  !  how  is  that  ?" 

"Because  I  know  nothing  myself." 

"  Why  then  were  you  made  schoolmaster  ?" 

"  Why,  sir,  I  had  been  taking  care  of  the  Waldbach  pigs  for 
a  great  number  of  years ;  and  when  I  got  too  old  and  infirm 
for  that  employment,  they  sent  me  here  to  take  care  of  the 
children." 

The  other  schools  were  in  a  similar  condition,  and  the  best  of 
them  were  taught  by  shepherds,  who  kept  flocks  in  the  summer 
*nd  taught  the  schools  in  the  winter,  trying  to  educate  the 
young  while  they  could  not  gather  the  meaning  of  what  they 
attempted  to  read  themselves.  Stouber  set  about  reforming  the 
Bchools ;  but  to  his  great  surprise  he  could  not  get  any  of  the 
better  class  of  people  to  permit  their   children   to   assume  the 


JOHN    FREDERICK  OBERLIN.  585 

office  of  schoolmaster,  which  was  wholly  sunk  in  contempt.  To 
obviate  this  difficulty  he*  invented  a  new  name,  and  was  pleased 
to  find  the  most  promising  of  the  young  men  willing  to  become 
superintendents  of  the  schools.  Their  salaries  were  very  smalL 
but  a  benevolent  individual  at  Strasburg  gave  him  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollai's,  that  the  interest  might  be  expended  in 
rewarding  the  teachers  whose  pupils  made  the  most  rapid 
progress. 

Stouber  next  attempted  to  build  a  school-house,  and  waited 
on  the  praetor  of  Strasburg  for  permission  to  take  the  ne- 
cessary timber  gratuitously  from  the  forests  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. This  request  was  refused  absolutely.  Then  Stouber^ 
who  was  a  man  of  great  readiness  and  tact,  desired  permission 
to  make  a  collection  for  this  purpose  among  charitable  indi- 
viduals. This  was  granted  without  a  word  of  objection.  "  Yv^ell 
then,"  said  Stouber,  presenting  his  hat,  ''you  are,  please  your 
excellency,  known  as  a  charitable  person,  and  I  will  make  the 
beginning  with  you."  The  praetor,  in  great  glee  at  the 
manoeuvre,  immediately  gave  him  liberty  to  cut  down  as  much 
wood  as  he  pleased,  on  condition  that  he  should  dine  with  him 
every  time  he  came  to  Strasburg. 

Stouber  next  had  a  battle  with  the  ignorance  and  prejudice 
of  the  people,  who  began  to  fear  that  they  would  soon  have  to 
pay  higher  salaries  to  the  teachers  for  all  this  learning,  but 
they  became  more  reconciled  when  they  found  their  children 
able  to  read  to  them,  and  finally  some  of  them  came  forward 
and  desired  that  they  too  might  be  taught.  The  good  pastor 
complied,  and  established  schools  for  adults  in  the  long  evenings 
of  winter.  He  gave  them  the  Bible  to  read,  and  as  he  could 
not  get  more  than  fifty  copies,  he  divided  each  into  three  parts, 
that  one  hundred  and  fifty  persons  might  have  the  benefit  of 
some  part  of  the  Holy  Word.  Seventeen  years  had  been  passed 
in  these  efforts,  and  scarcely  any  thing  more  than  a  beginning 
was  effected,  when  Stouber  was  called  to  be  the  pastor  of  a 
church  in  Strasburg,  which  was  not  far  off.  He  resolved  to 
accept  the  call,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  chose  Oberlin  to  succeed 
him  at  Waldbach. 

When  Oberlin  came  among  them  their  language  was  barbarous , 
they  were  shut  up  in  their  mountain  homes  by  the  want  of  roads, 
the  farmers  were  destitute  of  the  most  necessary  implements, 
74 


586  LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

and  the  quantity  of  provisions  they  raised  was  not  tiuffic.ent  foi 
the  wants  of  the  population.  For  more  than  half  a  century, 
Oberlin  laboured  among  them  with  zeal  and  patience,  and  firm- 
iiess  and  discrimination.  He  made  of  his  parish  a  heaven  upon 
earth.  The  language  from  an  unintelligible  jargon  was  altered 
into  pure  French,  the  manners  of  the  people  were  refined,  and 
ignorance  banished  without  injuring  the  simplicity  of  character. 
The  good  pastor  was  assisted  in  his  labours  by  many  of  the 
young  whom  he  trained  for  the  purpose ;  from  all  the  country 
round,  children  were  sent  to  his  schools,  and  to  be  "a  scholar 
of  pastor  Oberlin"  was  a  sufficient  testimonial.  Everybody, 
maids,  children,  poor  and  rich,  called  Oberlin, their  "dear  papa,'* 
and  there  never  was  a  more  complete  father  of  a  large  family. 
The  poorest  of  them  seemed  nearest  his  heart,  and  in  them  the 
strangers  who  visited  this  parish  were  not  more  surprised  than 
delighted,  to  trace  a  large  share  of  the  spirituality,  humility, 
and  cultivation  of  mind  that  distinguished  him.  He  taught 
them  many  things  besides  religious  knowledge.  The  minds  of 
all  were  polished  by  music,  drawing,  botany,  geography  and 
other  studies  of  an  elevating  character.  He  prepared  leather 
gloves  for  them  at  one  time  while  a  stranger  was  making  him 
a  visit,  and  frequently  put  a  word  in  with  the  teachings  of  his 
eldest  son,  who  was  giving  a  lesson  to  some  of  the  little  ones. 
In  his  workshop  was  a  lathe,  a  complete  set  of  carpenters'  tools, 
a  printing-press,  and  a  press  for  book-binding.  He  gave  scarcely 
any  thing  to  his  people  but  what  had  been  in  some  measure 
prepared  by  his  OAvn  or  his  children's  hands.  One  stranger 
oaw  him  surrounded  by  four  or  five  families  that  had  been  burnt 
out  of  their  houses.  He  was  dividino-  amono;  them  clothes, 
meat,  books,  knives,  thimbles  and  coloured  pictures  for  the 
children,  whom  he  placed  in  a  row  according  to  their  ages,  and 
allowed  them  to  choose  for  themselves.  "The  most  perfect 
equality,"  says  a  visitor,  'M-eigns  in  his  house;  children,  ser- 
vants, boarders — all  are  treated  alike  ;  their  places  at  tablo 
change,  that  each  in  turn  may  sit  next  to  him,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  Louisa,  his  housekeeper,  who  of  course  presides,  and 
his  two  maids  who  sit  at  the  end  of  the  table.  As  it  is  his 
custom  to  salute  every  member  of  his  family,  night  and  morning, 
these  two  little  maid«  come  very  respectfully  courtesying  to  him, 
and  he  alwayo  gives   them   his   hand,  and   inijuires  after   their 


JOHN   FREDERICK  OBERLIN.  587 

health  with  good  wishes.  All  are  happy  and  appear  to  owe 
much  of  their  happiness  to  him.  They  seem  to  be  ready  to 
sacrifice  their  lives  to  save  his."  He  taught  them  to  look  upon 
the  Lord  as  their  father,  "  our  father,"  he  would  say,  and  the  dear 
Bible  was  the  source  of  all  his  instructions.  On  Friday  evenings 
he  would  have  a  service  for  those  who  understood  German  better 
than  French,  when  he  would  preach  in  the  former  language, 
using  the  simplest  form  of  words  that  every  one  could  under- 
stand. Occasionally  he  would  ask  them  if  they  were  tired,  or 
if  he  had  said  enough,  and  the  answers  came  up  in  a  gentle 
remonstrance  from  loving  lips,  "No,  papa,  go  on — we  should 
like  to  hear  a  little  more."  And  he  would  continue  his  explana- 
tions of  the  word,  until  they  ended  the  meeting  by  general 
consent. 

A  traveller  states  that  as  he  had  the  highest  regard  for  his 
people,  so  he  had  the  best  opinion  of  their  skill,  and  wondered 
that  any  one  should  doubt  it.  One  day,  when  they  were  driven 
by  a  man  who  seemed  to  go  on  in  a  hazardous  manner,  this 
gentleman  happened  to  say,  ''Take  care."  Oberlin  felt  hurt  at 
the  admonition,  both  on  account  of  the  stranger  and  the  driver. 
He  assured  the  one  that  all  was  safe  ;  and  at  the  end  of  the  ride 
took  the  greatest  pains  to  prevent  or  remove  any  feeling  of 
vexation  from  arising  in  the  mind  of  his  parishioner.  His  peo- 
ple emulated  him  in  his  virtues,  and  strangers  were  sorely 
puzzled  who  thought  to  reward  services  so  cheerfully  rendered 
them  on  every  Jjand.  They  would  take  no  money,  they  had  all 
they  wanted,  and  they  served  only  for  love.  For  Oberlin  they 
all  entertained  the  deepest  love  and  veneration,  and  they  never 
met  him  without  some  extremely  affecting  demonstration  of 
regard. 

In  1818,  the  Count  of  Neufchateau,  speaking  of  the  improve- 
ments Oberlin  had  effected  in  the  cultivation  of  the  soil,  in  a 
report  to  the  Agricultural  Society  of  Paris,  says,  "If  you  would 
behold  an  instance  of  what  may  be  effected  in  any  country  for 
the  advancement  of  agriculture  and  the  interests  of  humanity, 
quit  for  a  moment  the  banks  of  the  Seine,  and  ascend  one  of 
the  steepest  summits  of  the  Vosges  mountains.  Friends  of  the 
plough  and  of  human  happiness,  come  and  behold  the  Ban  de 
la  Roche."  In  the  years  1812,  1816,  and  1817,  he  averted 
the  horrors  of  approaching  famine  from  his  parish  by  his  ex- 


588  LIVES  OP   EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

traordinary  efforts  and  unabated  exertions ;  the  new  crop  of 
potatoes  that  he  had  introduced  giving  subsistence  to  his  people 
when  they  could  harvest  no  corn.  As  a  testimony  of  their 
gratification,  a  gold  medal  was  presented  to  him  by  the  Agri- 
cultural Society,  and  Louis  XVIII.  honoured  him  with  a  badge 
of  distinction. 

As  pastor,  physician,  farmer,  mechanic,  and  schoolmaster 
Oberlin  found  a  most  devoted  and  able  assistant  in  his  pruden: 
and  judicious  wife,  a  young  lady  of  Strasburg  whom  he  married 
in  1768.  She  was  to  the  women  of  the  parish  a  model,  which 
they  might  imitate  with  as  much  advantage  as  the  men  could  do 
that  of  her  husband.  On  her  death,  in  1784,  the  care  of  his 
household  devolved  on  Louisa  Schepler,  an  orphan  who  had  been 
eight  years  in  his  family,  and  was  then  twenty-three  years  of 
age.  She  had  been  one  of  the  most  active  conductors  of  the 
infant  schools  in  Waldbach  from  their  commencement.  She  was 
adopted  as  a  daughter  by  "papa  Oberlin,"  and  resolutely  re- 
fusing all  offers  of  marriage,  she  devoted  her  life  to  assisting 
him  in  his  labours,  refusing  to  receive  any  salary  or  money,  but 
living  in  his  family  as  a  friend,  rather  than  a  servant. 

Oberlin  died  on  the  first  of  June,  1826,  being  nearly  eighty- 
six  years  of  age  and  in  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  residence  in 
Waldbach.  The  number  of  those  who  attended  his  funeral  was 
so  great  that  the  head  of  the  procession  reached  the  church 
where  the  burial  was  to  take  place,  before  the  end  of  it  had  left 
the  house,  two  miles  distant.  His  remains  were  committed  to 
the  grave  amidst  the  deepest  lamentation  of  the  multitude,  and 
the  oldest  inhabitant  of  the  ban  placed  over  it  a  cross  prepared 
by  direction  of  Louisa  Schepler,  on  which  was  the  simple  in- 
scription— "Papa  Oberlin." 


HENRY   KIRKE  WHITE. 


58d 


HENRY  KIRKE  WHITE, 


ON  of  a  butcher,  at  Nottingham,  was  born 
there,  on  the  21st  of  March,  1785.  At  the 
age  of  three  years,  he  was  placed  at  a  female 
seminary,  and  by  his  attachment  to  juvenile 
literature,  attracted  the  particular  notice  of 
his  school-mistress,  whom  he  has  celebrated  in 
^r^v\  his  poem  of  "  Childhood."  Even  in  his  infancy, 
^O  his  thirst  for  knowledge  was  so  extraordinary 
^/  that  it  required  the  most  affectionate  solicitations, 
and  sometimes  a  degree  of  austerity,  to  induce 
him  to  be  less  constant  in  his  application  to  study. 
At  seven  years  of  age,  he  used  to  employ  himself 
unknown  to  his  parents,  in  teaching  the  servants  to 
read  and  write,  and  his  own  desire  of  receiving  in- 
struction was  not  less  remarkable,  on  his  being  put  to 
school,  about  this  time,  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Blanchard, 
at  Nottingham.  Here  he  learned  the  rudiments  of  mathematics 
and  the  English  and  French  languages,  and  in  all  respects  dis- 
played wonderful  powers  of  acquisition.  "  When  about  eleven," 
says  Dr.  Southey,  in  his  life  of  White,  "  he,  one  day,  wrote  a 
separate  theme  for  every  boy  in  his  class,  which  consisted  of 
about  twelve  or  fourteen  ;  the  master  said  he  had  never  known 
them  write  so  well  upon  any  subject  before,  and  could  not  re- 
fi-ain  from  expressing  his  astonishment  at  the  excellence  of 
Henry's."  His  schoolfellows  considered  him  as  a  particularly 
cheerful,  amiable,  and  even  sportive  companion;  but  having 
lampooned  one  of  the  ushers,  he,  in  revenge,  told  our  author's 
mother  "  what  an  incorrigible  son  she  had,  and  how  unlikely 
he  was  to  make  any  progress  in  his  studies."  He  was,  in  con- 
sequence, removed  to  the  academy  of  Mr.  Henry  Shipley  ;  and, 
about  the  same  time,  he  is  said  to  have  derived  great  gratifica- 
tion   at   being   released  from   the    degrading  occupation  of  a 

3D 


590  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

butcher's  errand-boy,  in  which  he  had  hitherto  been  employed 
every  market-day,  and  at  other  leisure  times.  His  family,  also, 
having  removed  to  a  more  commodious  house  in  the  town,  he 
was  allotted  a  small  apartment  to  himself,  which  he  called  his 
study.  On  attaining  his  fourteenth  year,  he  was  placed  in  a 
Btocking-frame  to  prepare  himself  for  the  hosiery  line  ;  but  be- 
ing averse  to  the  occupation,  he  was  subsequently  articled  to 
Messrs.  Coldham  and  Enfield,  attorneys  of  Nottingham.  He 
devoted  himself  with  steadiness  to  his  profession  du]'ing  the  day, 
and  passed  his  evenings  in  the  acquirement  of  the  Latin,  Greek, 
and  Italian  languages;  and  afterwards,  the  Spanish  and  Portu- 
guese. His  proficiency  soon  displayed  itself,  and  caused  him 
to  be  elected  a  member  of  the  Nottingham  Literary  Society, 
who.  shortly  after  his  admission,  appointed  him  their  professor 
of  literature,  in  consequence  of  his  delivery  of  an  admirable 
extempore  lecture  on  Genius,  of  nearly  two  hours'  duration. 

He  might  now,  says  one  of  his  biographers,  be  called,  "  The 
Crichton  of  Nottingham ;"  for  chemistry,  astronomy,  drawing, 
music,  and  even  practical  mechanics,  equally  claimed  his  atten- 
tion ;  and  his  attainments  in  each  were  considerable.  At  the 
age  of  fifteen,  he  obtained,  from  the  Monthly  Preceptor,  two 
prizes, — a  silver  medal  and  a  pair  of  twelve-inch  globes, — for  a 
translation  from  Horace,  and  a  description  of  an  imaginary  tour 
from  London  to  Edinburgh.  In  1802,  he  had  written  a  volume 
of  poems  called  "  Clifton  Grove,"  and  other  pieces,  in  the  hope 
that  the  publication  of  them  would  enable  him  to  study  at  col- 
lege for  the  church,  though  feeling  no  dislike  to  his  own  profes- 
sion, in  which  he  was  ambitious  of  rising.  <'  A  deafness,  how- 
ever," says  Southey,  '>;  to  which  he  had  always  been  subject, 
appeared  to  grow  worse,  and  threatened  to  preclude  all  hope  of 
advancement ;  and  his  opinions,  which  had  once  inclined  to 
deism,  had  now  taken  a  strong  devotional  bias."  After  receiv- 
ing a  polite  refusal  from  the  Countess  of  D^rby,  for  permission 
to  dedicate  to  her  his  poems,  he  obtained  the  consent  of  the 
Dutchess  of  Devonshire  to  the  use  of  her  name,  and  they  accord- 
ingly appeared,  in  1804,  inscribed  to  her  Grace,  who,  however, 
took  no  farther  notice  of  the  author  or  his  book.  Some  remarks 
upon  it,  in  "  The  Monthly  Review,"  describing  it  as  being  pub- 
lished under  the  discouragement  of  penury  and  misfortune, 
caused  him  much  mortification,  aa  will  be  seen  from  the  follow- 


HENRY   KIRKE   WHITE.  591 

ing  letter  : — "  The  unfavourable  review  (in  The  Monthly)  of 
my  unhappy  work,  has  cut  deeper  than  you  could  have  thought ; 
not  in  a  literary  point  of  view,  but  as  it  affects  my  respecta- 
bility. It  represents  me  actually  as  a  beggar,  going  about 
gathering  money  to  put  myself  at  college  when  my  work  ia 
worthless ;  and  this  with  every  appearance  of  candour.  They 
have  been  sadly  misinformed  respecting  rne  :  this  review,  goes 
before  me  wherever  I  turn  my  steps  ;  it  haunts  me  incessantly, 
and  I  am  persuaded  it  is  an  instrument  in  the  hands  of  Satan 
to  drive  me  to  distraction.     I  must  leave  Nottingham." 

Messrs.  Coldham  and  Enfield  having  agreed  to  give  up  the 
remainder  of  his  time,  Henry  now  zealously  devoted  himself  to 
the  study  of  divinity ;  and  reading,  among  other  books,  Scott's 
Force  of  Truth,  he  remarked  that  it  was  founded  upon  eternal 
truth,  and  that  it  convinced  him  of  his  errors.  The  avidity  of 
his  search  after  knowledge  increased  daily,  or  rather  nightly  ; 
for  it  is  said  that  he  frequently  limited  his  time  of  rest  to  a 
couple  of  hours,  and,  with  a  desperate  and  deadly  ardour,  would 
often  study  the  whole  night  long.  The  night,  he  used  to  say,  was 
every  thing  to  him  ;  and  that  if  the  world  knew  how  he  had  been 
indebted  to  its  hours,  they  would  not  wonder  that  night  images 
were  so  predominant  in  his  verses.  The  result  of  this  applica- 
tion was  a  severe  illness ;  on  his  recovery  from  which,  he  pro- 
duced those  beautiful  lines,  written  in  Milford  churchyard. 

In  July,  1814,  his  long-delayed  hopes  of  entering  the  univer- 
sity were  about  to  be  gratified:  '^  I  can  now  inform  you,'*  he 
writes  to  a  friend,  in  this  month,  "  that  I  have  reason  to  believe 
my  way  through  college  is  close  before  me.  From  what  source 
I  know  not ;  but  through  the  hands  of  Mr.  Simeon,  I  am  pro- 
vided with  <£30  per  annum  ;  and,  while  things  go  on  prosper- 
ously, as  they  do  now,  I  can  command  £'20  or  X30  more  from 
my  friends  :  and  this,  in  all  probability,  until  I  take  my  degree. 
The  friends  to  whom  I  allude  are  my  mother  and  brother."  In 
addition  to  this,  an  unknown  friend  offered  him  <£30  a  year, 
which  he  declined,  as  also  the  assistance  of  the  Elland  Society, 
where  he  had  been  previously  examined  by  upwards  of  twenty 
clergymen,  who  expressed  themselves  in  terms  of  astonishment 
at  his  classical  proficiency,  and  were  well  satisfied  with  his  theo- 
logical knowledge.  Mr.  Simeon,  who  had  promised  him  asizer- 
ahip  at  St.  John's,  noTi  advised  him  to  degrade  for  a  year,  whir' 


592  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

he,  in  consequence,  passed  at  Winteringham,  in  Lincolnshire, 
under  the  tuition  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Grainger.  Here  intense  ap- 
plication to  his  studies  brought  on  a  second  fit  of  illness,  from 
which  he  was  scarcely  recovered  at  the  time  of  his  return  to 
Cambridge,  in  October,  1805.  During  his  first  term,  he  an- 
nounced himself  a  candidate  for  a  university  scholarship,  but 
ill  health  compelled  him  to  decline  it :  he,  however,  made  great 
exertions  to  undergo  the  college  examination,  which  he  was 
enabled  to  do  with  the  aid  of  strong  stimulants  and  medicines  ; 
and  he  was  pronounced  the  first  man  of  his  year.  The  efforts 
he  put  forth  on  this  occasion,  probably,  cost  him  his  life,  for 
he  remarked  to  a  friend,  "that  Avere  he  to  paint  a  picture  of 
Fame  crowning  a  distinguished  under-graduate,  after  the  senate- 
house  examination,  he  would  represent  her,  as  concealing  a 
death's-head  under  a  mask  of  beauty." 

After  paying  a  visit  to  London,  -he  returned  to  Cambridge^ 
in  January,  1806,  and  prepared  himself  for  the  great  college 
examination  which  took  place  in  June,  when  he  was  again  pro- 
nounced the  first  man.  The  college  now  offered  to  supply  him 
with  a  mathematical  tutor,  free  of  expense ;  and  exhibitions, 
to  the  amount  of  £6S  a-year,  being  procured  for  him,  he  was 
enabled  to  dispense  with  further  assistance  from  his  friends. 
Logarithms  and  problems  now  engrossed  the  attention  of  his 
already  overstrained  mind ;  but  his  feeble  frame,  not  equally 
under  his  command,  soon  checked  the  rapid  but  destructive  ad- 
vance of  his  mental  powers.  One  morning  his  laundress  found 
him  insensible,  bleeding  in  four  different  places  in  his  face  and 
head :  he  had  fallen  down  in  a  state  of  exhaustion,  in  the  act 
of  sitting  down  to  decipher  some  logarithm  tables.  Still  he 
persisted  to  nourish  "the  wound  that  laid  him  low  ;"  but  nature 
was  at  length  overcome  :  he  grew  delirious,  and  died  on  the  19th 
of  October,  1806,  in  his  twenty-first  year. 

Thus  fell,  a  victim  to  his  own  genius,  one,  whose  abilities  and 
acquirements  were  not  more  conspicuous  than  his  moral  and 
.social  excellence.  "  It  is  not  possible,"  says  Southey,  "  to  con- 
ceive a  human  being  more  amiable  in  all  the  relations  of  life. 
He  was  the  confidential  friend  and  adviser  of  every  member  of 
his  family  ;  this  he  instinctively  became  :  and  the  thorough  good- 
ness of  his  advice  is  not  less  remarkable  than  the  affection  with 
which  it  is  always  communicated."     Good  sense,  indeed,  at  al' 


HENRY  KIRKE   WHITE.  59S 

times,  and  latterly,  fervent  piety,  appear  to  have  been  his  chief 
characteristics ;  the  latter  enabled  him  to  overcome  a  naturally 
irritable  temper ;  and  it  was  impossible,  says  the  above  author- 
ity, for  man  to  be  more  tenderly  patient  of  the  faults  of  others, 
more  uniformly  meek,  or  more  unaffectedly  humble. 

With  regard  to  his  poems,  observes  the  laureate,  "  Chatterton 
is  the  only  youthful  poet  whom  he  does  not  leave  far  behind 
him ;"  and,  in  alluding  to  some  of  his  papers,  handed  to  him 
for  perusal  after  the  death  of  White,  he  observes,  "  I  have  in- 
spected all  the  existing  manuscripts  of  Chatterton,  and  they 
excited  less  wonder  than  these." 


594 


LIVES  OP  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 


THOMAS   CHALMERS* 


HALMERS  was  born  at  Anstruther,  in  Fife- 
shire,  in  April,  1780.  His  parents  were  com- 
mon tradespeople,  who,  with  that  laudable 
desire  to  give  their  children  education,  for 
which  the  Scotch  are  distinguished,  struggled 
hard  to  give  Thomas  a  college  education,  that 
he  might  become  a  minister.  He  was,  there- 
fore, educated  in  all  the  higher  branches  of 
science  and  philosophy  at  St.  Andrew's  College 
and  University,  having  been  previously  rooted  and 
grounded  in  the  elements  at  the  parochial  school  of 
his  native  town.  Having  taken  out  his  degree  of 
Master  of  Arts,  he  attended  the  divinity-hall,  and  was 
licensed  to  preach  at  the  beginning  of  the  present 
century.  On  becoming  a  licentiate  of  the  Church  of 
Scotland,  and  even  after  his  ordination  as  a  minister  of 
that  church,  he  entered  on  engagements  of  a  more  general  kind 
than  those  usually  filled  in  connection  with  the  clerical  pro- 
fession. He  became  a  member  of  a  yeomanry  corps,  and  de- 
livered different  courses  of  scientific  lectures  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  his  native  town.  After  officiating  for  about  two  years 
as  assistant  in  the  parish  of  Cavers,  he  obtained  a  presentation 
to  the  living  of  Kilmany,  in  Fifeshire.  While  there,  he  continued 
to  prosecute  his  scientific  studies  ;  and  when  the  chair  of  mathe- 
matics in  the  University  of  Edinburgh  became  vacant  by  the 
translation  of  Professor  Playfair  to  the  chair  of  natural  philoso- 
phy, he  was  one  of  the  majiy  candidates  who  competed  with  the 
late  Sir  John  Leslie  for  the  vacant  honour.  He  withdrew, 
however,  at  an  early  stage  of  the  protracted  contest  which 
ensued.  At  this  period  the  French  war  was  raging,  and  Chal- 
mers produced  a  volume  on   "  The  Extent  and  Stability  of  the 


*  From  «'  The  Britannia.' 


THOMAS  CHALMERS.  595 

National  Resources."  It  was  not  reprinted  in  his  collected  works, 
afterwards  published  in  twenty-five  volumes.  For  some  years 
he  remained  at  Kilmany,  enjoying  little  more  than  provincial 
reputation,  till  the  publication  of  some  isolated  sermons,  and  his 
contribution  of  the  article  "Christianity"  to  the  "Edinburgh 
Encylopsedia,"  edited  by  Sir  D.  Brewster,  all  of  which  were 
marked  by  evangelism  of  tone,  and  expressed  in  a  style  of  rugged 
and  original  grandeur. 

The  following  anecdote  of  his  first  essay  as  a  preacher  before 
a  metropolitan  congregation  is  told  by  a  mornirig  paper: — "In 
1814,  he  went  to  Edinburgh  on  private  business,  and  having 
been  requested  to  call  on  one  of  the  city  ministers,  with  a  view 
to  his  preaching  for  him  that  day,  he  was  disappointed  to  find 
that  the  reverend  gentleman  intended  to  preach  for  himself: 
but  Mr.  Fleming,  for  that  was  his  name,  gave  him  a  note  to 
Mr.  Jones,  of  Lady  Glenorchy's  chapel,  who  was  then  in  delicate 
health  and  in  Avant  of  supply.  Mr.  Chalmers  hurried  to  the 
chapel  on  Sunday  morning,  got  into  it  as  Mr.  Jones  left  the 
vestry,  and  was  about  to  ascend  the  pulpit,  and  with  more  zeal 
than  discretion  walked  straight  up  to  him  at  the  foot  of  the 
pulpit  stairs,  and  seizing  him  by  the  tails  of  his  coat,  held  hir^ 
fast  by  one  hand  while  he  presented  the  note  with  the  other. 
Mr.  Jones,  on  seeing  the  tenor  of  the  note,  withdrew  to  the 
vestry,  beckoning  Chalmers  to  follow,  and  there  placing  on  his 
shoulders  his  own  gown,  and  putting  round  his  neck  his  own 
bands,  told  him  to  'mount  the  pulpit  and  preach  like  a  man  of 
God  '  Chalmers  took  for  his  text  the  passage  in  John  where 
Christ  says,  '  If  thou  hadst  known  who  it  was  that  said.  Give 
me  to  drink,  thou  wouldst  have  asked,  and  he  would  have  given 
thee  living  waters ;'  from  which  he  delivered  a  sermon  so  power- 
ful and  impressive,  that  from  that  day  forward  he  was  set  down 
as  the  giant  of  the  age." 

In  1815,  he  got  a  call  to  the  Tron  Church  of  Glasgow,  which 
he  accepted,  and  soon  after  was  ordained  in  that  new  and  ex- 
tensive field  of  labour.  He  quickly  proved  himself  equal  to 
this  larger  trust,  and  by  his  indefatigable  activity  he  did  much 
for  the  spread  of  religion,  the  elevation  of  the  poor,  and 
social  improvement  in  Glasgow.  In  1810,  Mr.  Chalmers  was 
translated  to  the  new  church  and  parish  of  St.  John,  where  he 
pursued  his  course  of  social  regeneration  with  increasing  success ; 


690  LIVES  OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

but  ill  1823,  the  chair  of  moral  philosophy  in  St.  Andrew  s 
having  become  vacant,  he  was  unexpectedly  elected  to  fill  it, 
and  soon  raised  the  department  of  moral  philosophy  to  a  high 
eminence  in  the  curriculum  of  that  institution.  From  the  time 
that  he  preached  a  sermon  before  the  royal  commissioner,  at 
the  meeting  of  the  General  Assembly  in  Edinburgh  in  1816, 
the  popular  effect  of  which  was  great,  he  was  repeatedly  offered 
the  pastorship  of  one  or  other  of  the  Edinburgh  churches,  but, 
conceiving  that  his  talents  and  acquirements  were  such  as 
qualified  him  better  for  teaching  than  preaching,  he  refused 
them  all.  A  course  of  astronomical  sermons,  also  preached  in 
Edinburgh,  contributed  much  to  establish  his  fame,  and  he 
became  so  much  a  favourite  with  the  public  wherever  he  ap- 
peared thereafter,  that,  to  use  his  own  words,  he  felt  the  burden 
of  "a  popularity  of  stare  and  pressure  and  animal  heat."  This 
remark  had  reference  more  particularly  to  some  of  his  appear- 
ances in  London,  where  Canning,  Lord  Castlereagh,  Lord  Eldon, 
the  Duke  of  Sussex,  with  several  branches  of  the  royal  family, 
and  many  others,  elbowed  their  way  into  crowded  churches  to 
hear  him,  and  were  impressed,  to  use  the  words  of  Foster,  with 
that  eloquence  which  "strikes  on  your  mind  with  irresistible 
force,  and  leaves  you  not  the  possibility  of  asking  or  thinking 
whether  it  be  eloquence;"  or,  to  adopt  Lord  Jeffrey's  still  more 
characteristic  description,  "  He  could  not  say  what  it  was,  but 
there  was  something  altogether  remarkable  about  the  man.  The 
effects  produced  by  his  eloquence  reminded  him  more  of  what 
he  had  read  of  Cicero  and  Demosthenes  than  any  thing  he  had 
ever  heard." 

In  1828,  the  chair  of  divinity  in  Edinburgh  became  vacant, 
and  the  magistrates  and  town  council,  being  the  patrons,  unani- 
mously elected  Dr.  Chalmers  to  the  office.  Here  he  had  reached 
the  highest  object  of  his  ambition,  and  devoted  himself  so 
assiduously  to  the  duties  of  his  appointment  that  his  students 
increased  in  number  to  a  vpry  inconvenient  extent.  For  four 
years  he  pursued  his  course  in  this  chair  with  comparative  ab- 
straction from  pu))lic  affairs;  but  in  1832,  a  variety  of  circum- 
stances combined  to  bring  him  on  the  stage  of  public  life,  where, 
as  the  leader  of  the  evangelical  party  in  the  church,  he  com- 
menced a  struggle  for  church  extension,  which  ended  in  the 
iisruption  of  1843,  and  tlie  establishment  of  the  Free  Church. 


THOMAS   CHALMERS.  597 

No  sooner  had  the  doctor  set  himself  to  work  out  his  great 
problem  of  church  establishments,  being  the  emanation  from 
which  Christianity  might  by  an  aggressive  movement  take 
possession  of  the  strongholds  of  ignorance  and  vice,  while 
dissent  as  an  attractive  institution  would  draw  off  some  of  those 
already  religiously  disposed,  than  he  felt  the  dissenters  more 
difficult  to  manage  than  he  had  expected,  and  the  government 
less  willing  to  build  new  churches,  and  give  the  ecclesiastical 
courts  absolute  power  in  the  management  of  them,  than  he  had 
been  led  to  expect.  But  the  great  majority  of  the  people  of 
Scotland,  although  they  could  not  agree  to  many  of  Dr.  Chal- 
mers's notions  of  ecclesiastical  government,  yet  sympathized  with 
him  in  his  non-intrusion  doctrines,  and  backed  him  up  in  his 
efforts  to  retain  for  all  the  male  communicants  of  the  church, 
above  twenty-one  years  of  age,  a  right  to  a  positive  as  well  as 
a  negative  voice  in  the  election  of  ministers.  The  doctor,  in 
obedience  to  his  convictions  of  duty,  first  proposed  and  carried 
in  the  Assembly  an  act  called  "  The  Veto  Act,"  which  professedly 
gave  to  male  communicants  in  churches  the  power  to  say  "  Nu" 
when  a  patron  presented  a  licentiate  to  a  vacant  charge,  assign- 
ing no  reasons  for  the  negation.  The  well-known  Auchterarder 
case  arose  out  of  this  act,  and  the  House  of  Lords  having  de 
<;ided  that  the  Church  of  Scotland  had  thus  overreached  herself, 
an  appeal  on  popular  grounds  was  made  to  the  Commons,  but 
without  effect.  The  Rev.  Doctor  now  counselled  a  secession 
from  the  establishment,  and  on  the  18th  of  May,  1843,  no  fewer 
than  474  ministers  left  the  church. 

The  New  Assembly  was  opened  by  Dr.  Chalmers  on  the  even- 
ing of  that  day,  and  henceforward  he  threw  himself  heart  and 
soul  into  the  schemes  of  the  Free  Church.  His  last  effort  was 
to  obtain  sufficient  funds  for  the  erection  of  a  college  and  uni- 
versity buildings,  in  the  final  act  of  which  he  was  engaged, 
previous  to  the  building  being  commenced,  when  he  was  struck 
down,  in  the  sixty-seventh  year  of  his  age. 

Dr.  Chalmers  held  both  the  degrees  of  D.  D.  and  LL.  D. ; 
and  was  the  first  Presbyterian  minister  who  obtained  an  honorary 
degree  from  the  University  of  Cambridge ;  and  one  of  the  few 
Scotchmen  who  have  been  elected  a  corresponding  member  of 
the  Institute  of  France.  His  collected  works  fill  twenty-five 
^nodec^rao  volumes. 


698 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 


ELIZABETH    FRY. 


LIZABETH  FRY  was  the  third  daughter  of 
the  late  John  Gurney  of  Earlhara  Hall,  near 
Norwich.  When  a  child,  she  was  remarkable 
for  the  strength  of  her  affections,  and  the 
vivacity  of  her  mind,  and  early  learned  the 
lesson  of  enhancing  the  pleasure  and  happi- 
ness, and  soothing  the  cares  and  sorrows  of 
all  around  her.  As  she  grew  up,  philanthropy 
became  a  marked  and  settled  feature  in  her 
character,  and  she  took  great  delight  in  forming 
and  superintending  a  school  on  her  father's  pre- 
mises, for  poor  children.  The  effect  which  her  gentle 
uthority  and  kind  instructions  produced,  in  these 
jects  of  her  care,  was  indicative  of  that  remarkable 
;  of  influencing  others  for  good,  which  was  so  distin- 
guishing a  feature  in  her  character  in  after-life. 
Notwithstanding  this  and  some  similar  pursuits,  she  was  in 
no  small  degree  attached  to  the  vain  pleasures  of  the  world,  and 
was  herself  peculiarly  attractive  to  such  as  were  making  those 
pleasures  their  object.  But  infinitely  higher  and  better  things 
awaited  her.  In  consequence  of  a  complaint  which  appeared 
to  be  of  a  serious  character,  the  instability  of  all  temporal  things 
became,  unexpectedly,  matter  of  personal  experience;  and  soon 
afterwards,  under  the  searching  yet  persuasive  ministry  of  the 
late  William  Savery,  she  became  deeply  serious.  Her  affections 
were  now  directed  into  the  holiest  channel;  the  love  of  the 
world  gave  way  to  the  love  of  Christ:  and  she  evinced  the 
reality  of  her  change,  by  becoming  a  consistent  member  of 
the  Society  of  Fi-iends. 

This  change,  however,  was  far  from  disqualifying  her  for  those 
social  endearments  which  a  widowed  father  and  ten  beloved 
brothers  and  sisters   claimed  at  her  hands.     On  the  contrary, 


ELIZ..BETH   FRY.  599 

«he  became  more  than  ever  the  joy  and  comfort  of  the  home 
circle,  until  the  year  1800 ;  when  at  the  age  of  twenty  she 
married  Joseph  Fry  of  London,  and  settled  in  the  heart  of  that 
metropolis.  Here  she  became  the  mother  of  a  numerous  young 
family,  over  whom  she  exerted  the  tenderest  maternal  care: 
yet  her  domestic  relations  did  not  prevent  her  labouring  w^ith 
constant  zeal  and  assiduity  for  the  benefit  of  her  fellow-creatures. 
The  poor  found  in  her  an  unfailing  friend,  and  numerous  indeed 
were  the  instances  in  which  cases  of  distress  were  first  personally 
examined  by  her,  and  afterwards  effectually  relieved.  She  was 
eyes  to  the  blind,  and  feet  to  the  lame,  and  the  cause  which  she 
kneiv  not^  she  searched  out. 

Deeply  impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  incomparable  value  of 
that  grace,  of  which  she  was  herself  so  large  a  partaker,  she 
found  it  to  be  her  indispensable  duty  to  declare  to  others  what 
God  had  done  for  her  soul,  and  to  invite  her  fellow-men  to 
come,  taste,  and  see  for  themselves,  how  good  the  Lord  is. 
The  sweetness  and  liveliness  of  her  communications,  the  clear- 
ness and  force  of  her  Christian  doctrine,  and  the  singular  soft- 
ness, power,  and  melody  of  her  voice,  can  never  be  forgotten 
by  those  who  have  heard  her,  whether  in  public  or  private. 

She  was  often  engaged  in  gospel  missions,  to  other  parts  of 
England,  and  subsequently,  to  a  large  extent,  in  Scotland, 
Ireland,  and  on  the  continent  of  Europe ;  in  the  course  of  which, 
as  well  as  at  other  times,  she  found  abundant  opportunities  of 
putting  forth  her  energies  in  the  subordinate  yet  highly  im- 
portant character  of  a  Christian  philanthropist.  She  visited 
hospitals,  prisons,  and  lunatic  asylums,  and  often  addressed  the 
inmates  of  these  and  other  institutions,  in  a  manner  which  was 
most  remarkably  adapted  to  the  state  of  her  hearers.  Well  did 
she  know,  in  dependence  on  Divine  influence,  how  to  find  her 
way  to  the  heart  and  understanding  of  the  child  at  school,  the 
sufierer  on  a  sick-bed,  the  corrupt  and  hardened  criminal,  and 
even  the  wild  and  wandering  maniac;  and  thousands,  both  in 
her  native  land  and  in  foreign  countries,  have  risen  up  around 
her,  and  "called  her  blessed  in  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

The  leading  object,  however,  of  her  benevolent  exertions,  waa 
the  melioration  of  prisons.  Her  long  and  persevering  attention 
to  this  object,  which  continued  to  be  dear  to  her  until  her  end 
came,  commenced  with  a  circumstance,  which   is  already  well 


600  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

known  to  the  public,  both  at  home  and  abroad.  At  an  early 
period  of  her  life  in  London,  she  was  informed  of  the  terrible 
condition  of  the  female  prisoners  in  Newgate.  The  part  of  thfr 
prison  allotted  to  them  was  a  scene  of  the  wildest  disorder. 
Swearing,  drinking,  gambling,  and  fighting  were  their  only  em- 
ployments; filth  and  corruption  prevailed  on  every  side.  Not- 
withstanding the  warnings  of  the  turnkeys,  that  her  purse  and 
watch,  and  even  her  life,  would  be  endangered,  she  resolved  to 
go  in  without  any  protection,  and  to  face  this  disorganized 
multitude.  After  being  locked  up  with  them,  she  addressed 
them  with  her  usual  dignitj;,  power,  and  gentleness;  soon  calmed 
their  fury,  and  fixed  their  attention,  and  proposed  to  them  a 
variety  of  rules  for  the  regulation  of  their  conduct,  to  which, 
after  her  kind  and  lucid  explanations,  they  all  gave  a  hearty  con- 
sent. Her  visits  were  repeated  again  and  again ;  and  with  the 
assistance  of  a  committee  of  ladies,  which  she  had  formed  for 
the  purpose,  she  soon  brought  her  rules  to  bear  upon  the  poor 
degraded  criminals.  Within  a  very  short  time  the  whole  scene- 
was  marvellously  changed.  Like  the  maniac  of  Genesareth, 
from  whom  the  legion  of  devils  had  been  cast  out,  these  once 
wild  and  wretched  creatures  were  seen  neatly  clothed,  busily 
employed,  arranged  under  the  care  of  monitors,  with  a.  matron 
at  the  head  of  them,  and,  comparatively  speaking,  in  their  right 
mind.  In  carrying  on  her  measures  of  reform  she  was  gene- 
rously supported,  not  only  by  the  city  authorities,  but  by  Lord 
Sidmouth,  the  secretary  of  state  for  the  home  department,  and 
his  successors  without  exception. 

The  attention  of  Elizabeth  Fry,  however,  and  of  the  other 
ladies,  whom  she  had  formed  into  a  visiting  committee,  was  by 
no  means  confined  to  Newgate.  The  female  criminals  in  some 
other  prisons  of  the  metropolis  soon  came  under  their  care,  and 
after  the  successful  formation  of  the  "British  Ladies  Society, 
for  the  reformation  of  female  prisoners,"  (which  has  now  con- 
tinued its  useful  efforts  and  interesting  annual  meetings  for  mon! 
than  twenty  years,)  a  similar  care  was  extended,  by  means  of 
associated  committees,  to  most  of  the  principal  prisons  in  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland.  Subsequently  the  plans  of  Elizabeth  Fry 
were  adopted  (chiefly  in  consequence  of  her  own  influence  and 
correspondence)  in  many  of  the  prisons  of  France,  Holland 
Denmark,   Prussia,   &c. ;    and   have    been   acted  on   with   much 


ELIZABETH   FRY.  601 

success  at  Philadelphia,  and  elsewhere  in  the  United  States. 
The  great  object  of  the  British  Society  was  to  place  the  female 
inmates  of  these  several  prisons  under  the  care  of  matrons  and 
other  officers  of  thei?-  own  sex;  and  to  arrange  a  plan  for  their 
being  constantly  visited  and  superintended  by  benevolent  ladies. 

Numerous  and  satisfactory  were  the  instances  of  reform 
which  took  place  under  the  immediate  notice  of  Elizabeth  Fry; 
but  here  it  ought  to  be  emphatically  remarked,  that  she  and  her 
^SwSociates  uniformly  held  up  to  view,  that  Christianity,  in  its 
practical  and  vital  power,  was  the  only  true  source  of  a  radical 
renovation  of  character.  Thus,  while  they  ever  insisted  on 
clear.liness,  industry,  and  wholesome  order  and  classification, 
their  main  dependence  (under  the  blessing  of  Providence)  was 
on  the  reading  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  on  kind,  judicious, 
persevering  j-eligious  instruction.  Elizabeth  Fry  did  much  to 
promote  her  great  object,  by  the  publication  of  a  simple  yet 
forcible  pamphlet,  explanatory  of  her  views  of  a  right  prison 
discipline  for  females,  and  of  the  true  principles  of  punishment 
in  general.  With  punishment  she  would  invariably  connect  a 
plan  for  reform  and  restoration ;  and  she  regarded  the  penalty 
of  death  with  strong  disapprobation.  Often  had  she  visited  the 
cells  of  condemned  criminals,  on  the  day  or  night  preceding 
their  execution ;  often  had  she  marked  the  agony  of  some  and 
the  obduracy  of  others;  often  had  she  traced  the  hardening 
effect  of  such  punishments  on  the  fellow-prisoners  of  the  suf- 
ferers, as  well  as  on  the  lower  orders  of  the  public  in  general. 
She  was  firmly  convinced  that  such  awful  inflictions  were 
opposed  alike  to  an  enlightened  expediency  and  to  sound  Chris- 
tian principle,  and  cordially  did  she  unite  with  her  brothers-in-law, 
Fowell  Buxton  and  Samuel  Hoare,  and  other  well-known  friends 
of  humanity,  in  bearing  her  testimony  against  them  with  persons 
in  authority,  and  in  taking  every  means  in  her  power  for 
hastening  their  abolition. 

It  was  a  remarkable  evidence  of  the  confidence  which  suc- 
cessive governments  reposed  in  her  and  her  associates,  that  the 
convict  ships  for  females  about  to  be  transported  to  New  South 
Wales  were  placed  under  their  especial  care  and  superintendence. 
This  was  a  most  important  part  of  cheir  service,  and  the  success 
of  the  admirable  regulations  which  they  introduced  into  these 
vessels,  in  order  to  insure  the'maintenance  of  a  truly  Christian 
76  3E 


(?02  LIVES  OP  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS 

order  during  the  voyage,  was  frequently  acknowledged  by  thts 
colonial  authorities. 

Elizabeth  Fry  visited  Scotland  and  Ireland  in  1818  and 
1827,  respectively,  and  there  her  exertions  in  forming  District 
Societies,  on  behalf  of  the  slave,  in  the  Bible  Society,  and  in 
the  formation  of  libraries  for  ttte  use  of  the  Coast  Guards,  were 
of  great  importance. 

The  law  of  love,  which  might  be  said  to  be  ever  on  her  lipSy 
was  deeply  engraven  on  her  heart,  and  her  charity,  in  the  best 
and  most  comprehensive  sense  of  the  term,  flowed  freely  forth 
towards  her  fellow-men  of  every  class,  of  every  condition. 
Thus  she  won  her  way  with  a  peculiar  grace,  and  almost  uni^ 
formly  obtained  her  object.  There  was,  however,  another 
quality,  which  powerfully  tended  to  this  result — patient  and 
indomitable  perseverance.  She  was  not  one  of  those  wha 
warmly  embrace  a  philanthropic  pursuit,  and  then  as  easily  for- 
sake it.  Month  after  month,  and  year  after  year,  she  laboured 
in  any  plan  of  mercy  which  she  thought  it  her  duty  to  under- 
take— and  never  forsook  it  in  heart  and  feeling,  even  when 
health  failed  her,  or  other  circumstances  not  under  her  control 
closed  the  door,  for  a  time,  on  her  personal  exertions.  This 
perseverance  was  combined  with  a  peculiar  versatility  and 
readiness  in  seizing  on  every  passing  occasion,  and  converting 
it  into  an  opportunity  of  usefulness.  She  was  not  only  always 
willing,  but  always  prepared,  always  ready  (by  a  kind  of  mental, 
sleight  of  hand)  to  do  good,  be  it  ever  so  little,  to  a  child,  a 
servant,  a  waiter  at  an  inn,  a  friend,  a  neighbour,  a  stranger. 

There  can,  indeed,  be  no  doubt  that  her  natural  endowments 
were  peculiarly  fitted,  under  the  sanctifying  influence  of  Divine 
grace,  to  her  arduous  vocations  in  life ;  but  it  was  this  grace — 
or  in  other  words  it  was  t\e  anointing  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord^ 
which  was  in  fact  her  main  qualification  for  every  service  in  the 
gospel — for  every  labour  of  Christian  love.  This  it  was  which 
imparted  a  heavenly  loveliness  to  her  countenance,  brightness 
and  clearness  to  her  words,  a  sacred  melody,  in  times  of  religious 
solemnity,  to  her  voice,  and  a  strength  and  facility  to  her 
actions.  "  Q'est  le  don  de  Dieu,''  cried  a  German  prince,  who 
mterpreted  for  her,  while  she  was  addressing  a  large  company 
of  orphans  in  a  foreign  land.  It  was,  indeed,  the  gift  of  Gody. 
Bupernaturally  bestowed  from  the  fountain  of  his  grace,  by  which 


ELIZABETH    FRY.  603 

she  was  enabled  so  to  move,  speak,  and  act  .n  his  service,  and 
by  which  her  natural  faculties — his  gifts  by  creation — were 
purified,  enlarged,  and  directed. 

No  one  could  more  fully  enter  than  she  habitually  did,  into 
the  force  and  meaning  of  the  apostle's  words,  «'  I  know  that  in 
me^  that  is  to  say,  in  my  flesh,  there  dwelleth  no  good  thing ;" 
no  one  could  more  readily  or  rightly  answer  his  question,  "What 
hast  thou,  that  thou  hast  not  received?"  and  from  her  inmost 
heart  could  she  adopt  the  prayer  of  the  psalmist,  "Not  unto  us, 
0  Lord,  not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name  give  glory." 

During  her  latter  years,  she  repeatedly  visited  the  continent 
of  Europe,  being  accompanied  by  her  husband  and  two  of  her 
brothers  in  succession ;  and  on  one  journey  of  considerable 
length,  her  party  was  joined  by  her  firm  fi-iend  and  helper,  the 
late  William  Allen.  In  the  course  of  her  travels  in  France, 
Holland,  Denmark,  Prussia,  and  other  parts  of  Germany,  she 
found  an  ample  scope  for  her  Christian  and  benevolent  exer- 
tions. Numerous  were  the  institutions  of  various  kinds  which 
she  carefully  inspected,  and  far  too  many  to  specify  were  the 
friendships  which  she  formed  with  the  better  part  of  mankind, 
in  the  countries  which  she  visited. 

One  example  may  illustrate  the  effect  of  her  Christian  in- 
fluence.    On  visiting  one  of  the  state  prisons  in  the  kingdom 

of ,  in  1839,  she  found  many  hundred  convicts  working  in 

chains,  sorely  burdened  and  oppressed.  In  unison  with  William 
Allen,  she  pressed  the  case,  in  the  absence  of  the  king,  on  the 
attention  of  the  queen  and  crown  prince.  Soon  afterwards  the 
queen  was  seized  by  her  mortal  illness,  but  did  not  depart  from 
this  world,  without  obtaining  the  kind  promise  of  her  royal 
consort,  that  Elizabeth  Fry's  recommendations  respecting  the 
prisons  should  be  at  once  adopted.  When  the  same  prison  was 
again  visited  by  her  in  1841,  not  a  chain  was  to  be  seen  on  any 
of  the  criminals.  They  were  working  with  comparative  ease 
and  freedom ;  not  one  of  them,  as  the  governor  declared,  had 
made  his  escape;  and  great  and  general  was  the  joy  with  which 
they  received  and  welcomed  their  benefactress. 

On  several  occasions,  during  her  continental  journeys,  when 
in  the  presence  of  persons  in  authority,  Elizabeth  Fry  was  a 
warm  and  bold  advocate  for  religious  liberty.  She  was  greatly 
afflicted  by  witnessing  the  persecutions  which  of  late  years  (aa 


604  LIVES    OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

well  as  formerly)  have  disgraced  even  Protestant  kingdoms  ir* 
Europe,  as  well  as  many  of  the  small  republics ;  and  her  appeals 
on  the  subject  were  honest,  forcible,  and  to  a  considerable 
degree,  successful. 

In  several  of  the  royal  persons  with  whom  she  communicated, 
she  met  with  truly  kindred  hearts,  and  it  is  not  too  much  to 
assert,  that  some  of  them  were  united  to  her  in  the  bond  not 
only  of  warm  and  constant  friendship,  but  of  Christian  fellow- 
ship. When  the  King  of  Prussia  was  in  England,  he  made  a 
point  of  visiting  her  at  her  own  abode,  on  which  occasion  she 
had  the  pleasure  of  presenting  to  him  her  children,  and  children's 
children,  a  goodly  company,  between  thirty  and  forty  in  number  [ 
She  was  also  gratified  by  receiving  a  most  affectionate  and 
sympathizing  letter  from  him  in  his  own  hand,  within  a  few 
weeks  of  her  death.  The  interest  felt  about  her  on  the  conti- 
nent of  Europe,  as  well  as  in  the  United  States  of  America,  was 
indeed  as  warm,  and  nearly  as  general,  as  in  her  own  country. 

After  all,  however,  those  loved  her  the  best,  who  knew  her 
the  most  in  private  life.  Her  love,  which  flowed  so  freely 
towards  mankind  in  general,  assumed  a  concentrated  form 
towards  the  individuals  of  her  own  immediate  circle.  There 
was  not  one  of  them  who  did  not  live  in  her  remembrance ;  not 
one  who  could  not  acknowledge  her  as  an  especial  friend — a 
helper  and  sustainer  in  life.  She  was  an  ardent  lover  of  the 
beauties  of  nature,  and  observed  them  with  delight,  in  their 
smaller  as  well  as  larger  features.  A  shell  by  the  sea-side,  a 
feather,  or  a  flower,  would  fill  her  heart  with  joy,  and  tune  her 
tongue  to  praise,  while  she  gazed  on  it  as  an  evidence  of  Divine 
wisdom,  skill,  and  goodness.  It  was,  indeed,  a  remarkable  fea- 
ture in  her  character,  that  she  was  as  complete  in  the  little  as 
in  the  great  things  of  life — as  successful  in  matters  of  a  sub- 
ordinate nature,  as  in  those  of  higher  moment. 

Those  who  are  accustomed  to  observe  the  ways  of  Divine 
mercy  and  wisdom,  will  not  be  surprised  that  so  beloved,  so 
popular  a  being,  should  experience  the  full  force  of  the  Scripture 
declaration — "Whom  the  Lord  loveth,  he  chasteneth."  Many 
and  varied  were  her  tribulations  in  the  course  of  her  pilgrimage ; 
and  it  wfs  throuo^h  no  light  measure  of  affliction  that  she  was 
prepared  for  her  fulness  of  sympathy  with  the  sufferings  of 
others.      A  delicate  constitution,  and  many  of  the  visitations  of 


ELIZABETH   FRY.  606 

eickness,  the  unexpected  death  of  some  of  her  beloved  children 
and  grandchildren,  as  well  as  the  loss  of  other  near  relations 
and  connections,  and  some  unexpected  adverse  circumstances, 
were  among  the  close  trials  of  faith  and  patience,  with  which 
her  heavenly  Father  saw  fit  to  prove  her  in  this  valley  of  tears. 
And,  indeed,  they  served  her  purpose,  for  she  was  preserved  in 
deep  humility  and  in  true  tenderness  of  spirit  before  the  Lord, 
under  whose  holy  hand  she  quietly  bowed  in  resignation  of  soul. 
She  knew  what  it  was  to  mourn  and  weep,  but  she  never  de- 
spaired. She  was  one  who  could  truly  sing  the  song  of  Habak- 
kuk: — "Although  the  fig-tree  shall  not  blossom,  neither  shall 
fruit  be  in  the  vines;  the  labour  of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and  the 
fields  shall  yield  no  meat;  the  flock  shall  be  cut  off  from  the 
fold,  and  there  shall  be  no  herd  in  the  stalls ;  yet  I  will  rejoice 
in  the  Lord,  and  joy  in  the  Grod  of  my  salvation." 

In  the  summer  of  1843,  she  spent  a  few  weeks  in  Paris,  for 
the  last  time.  Never,  perhaps,  did  she  manifest  a  greater 
brightness  than  during  that  period.  Her  numerous  friends  (of 
various  classes)  flocked  around  her  with  peculiar  pleasure,  and 
lively  and  precious  indeed  was  her  testimony  among  them,  to 
the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  and  to  its  practical  importance  and 
efficacy.  This  was  her  last  effort  of  the  kind.  Soon  after  her 
return  home,  her  health  was  evidently  enfeebled,  and  towards 
the  close  of  that  year,  she  became  so  alarmingly  ill  that  the 
solicitude  of  her  own  family,  and  the  multitudes  who  loved  her 
and  knew  her  value,  was  painfully  awakened. 

Although  she  continued  very  infirm  in  body,  the  sufi'ering& 
which  she  had  endured,  from  a  painful  irritation  of  the  nerves,^ 
and  spasms,  gradually  abated.  She  was  again  enabled,  to  a 
certain  extent,  and  with  occasional  relapses,  to  enjoy  the  com- 
pany of  her  friends ;  again  united  with  them  in  the  public 
worship  of  God  ;  again  cheered  and  comforted  the  family  circle ; 
again  laboured,  as  far  as  health  would  permit,  for  the  benefit 
of  her  fellow-men.  It  was  a  joy  and  a  comfort  to  many  that 
she  was  enabled  to  attend  two  of  the  sittings  of  the  last  yearly 
meeting,  and  the  last  annual  meeting  of  the  British  Ladies^ 
Society,  on  which  several  occasions  she  addressed  the  company 
present,  with  all  her  usual  sweetness,  love,  and  power. 

In  July,  1845,  she  went  with  her  husband  and  family,  for 
change  of   air   and  scene,  to    Ramsgate,  wh^re   she   was   sur- 

3  E  2 


606  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 

rounded  by  several  members  of  her  family,  and  took  peculiar 
pleasure  in  the  company  of  some  of  her  beloved  grandchildren, 
who  had  lately  lost  an  invaluable  father.  But  she  was  far  from 
forgetting  to  be  useful  to  others  beyond  her  own  circle.  Re- 
peatedly was  she  engaged  in  acceptable  religious  service  at  a 
Friends'  meeting  in  a  neighbouring  village ;  and  she  took  great 
pains  in  disseminating  Bibles  and  tracts  among  the  crews  of 
foreign  and  other  vessels,  which  frequented  the  harbour.  <'We 
must  work  while  it  is  to-day,"  said  she,  «'  however  low  the  ser- 
vice we  may  be  called  to.  I  desire,  through  the  help  that  may 
be  granted  me,  to  do  it  to  the  end;''  adding,  "'Let  us  sow 
beside  all  waters  ;'  I  so  greatly  feel  the  importance  of  that  text, 
« In  the  mornino:  sow  thv  seed,  and  in  the  evening  withhold  not 
thine  hand,  for  thou  knowest  not  whether  shall  prosper,  either 
this  or  that,  or  whether  they  both  shall  be  alike  good.'  "  While 
Buch  was  her  earnest  desire,  she  placed  no  dependence  for  sal- 
vation on  any  works  of  righteousness  which  she  had  done,  or 
could  do  ;  but  only  on  the  fulness  and  freeness  of  the  pardoning 
love  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus — the  one  great  sacrifice  for  sin,  her 
sure  and  certain  hope  of  eternal  glory. 

In  the  meanwhile  there  was  a  marked  sweetness  and  loveli- 
ness in  her  conversation  and  demeanour,  and  a  peculiar  and 
increasing  seriousness  in  her  state  of  mind — a  longing  for  a 
glorious  eternity — which  seemed  to  denote  that  she  was  rapidly 
ripening  for  a  holier  and  brighter  scene,  a  better  and  enduring 
inheritance.  Speaking  of  her  late  afflictions,  in  a  note  to  one 
of  her  brothers,  she  acknowledged  that  she  did  not  count  them 
strange,  as  though  some  strange  thing  had  happened  unto  her, 
but  rather  rejoiced  in  being  made  a  partaker  in  the  sufferings 
of  Christ,  that  when  his  glory  should  be  revealed,  she  might  be 

glad  also  with  exceeding  joy.     <' Ah,  dearest ,"  she  added, 

<'may  we,  through  our  Lord's  love  and  mercy,  eventually  thus 
rejoice  with  him  in  glory,  rest  and  peace,  when  this  passing 
scene  shall  close  upon  our  view!"  Her  hour  was  indeed  nearly 
come. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  11th  September,  1845,  after  a  day  or 
two  of  considerable  suffering  and  debility,  she  was  suddenly  at- 
tacked with  pressure  on  the  brain,  and  while  sinking  under  the 
Btroke,  was  heard  to  exclaim,  "  0  my  dear  Lord,  keep  and  help  thy 
servant !"    She  soon  fell  into  a  deep  slumber,  and  became  totally 


ELIZABETH   FRY.  60l 

unconscious  ;  which  state,  notwithstanding  some  sever«3  convul- 
Bions,  continued  ahnost  without  intermission,  until,  on  the  morning 
of  the  13th,  she  quietly  drew  her  last  breath.  On  one  occasion, 
however,  she  woke  up  for  a  few  moments  and  said  to  a  faithful 
attendant  who  was  beside  her  bed,  "  This  is  a  strife,  but  I  am 
SAFE."  Safe  she  then  was,  doubtless,  in  the  holy  bands  of  the 
Lord,  Avho  was  with  her  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death. 
Safe  she  now  is  for  ever,  as  we  reverently  yet  firmly  believe,  in 
the  bosom  of  that  adorable  Redeemer,  whom  she  ardently  loved 
and  faithfully  followed. 

Although  she  was  scarcely  to  be  numbered  with  the  aged, 
hers  was  a  long  life  in  the  service  of  her  God  and  Saviour. 
She  died  in  her  sixty-sixth  year.* 

*  From  "The  Friend,"  Philadelphia,  September,  1846. 


SOS 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


ROBERT    HALL. 


EN  of  great  talent  are  said  seldom  to  have 
clever  sons ;  but  to  this  rule  the  present  in- 
stance furnishes  an  exception.  The  father  of 
Robert  Hall  was  a  distinguished  minister  of 
the  Baptist  persuasion  at  Arnsby,  a  small 
village  near  Leicester;  and  the  more  than 
ordinary  resemblance  between  them,  both  in 
the  conformation  of  the  head  and  features,  and 
the  order  of  their  mental  faculties,  might  afford 
some  assistance  to  the  dubious  in  the  verification 
of  ph3'siognomical  science.  Robert  (born  at  Arnsby 
May  2, 1764)  was  the  youngest  of  fourteen  children, 
and,  in  infancy,  the  feeblest,  though  afterwards  his 
'ame  and  constitution  bordered  on  the  athletic.  He 
was  once  given  up  for  dead  in  the  arms  of  his  nurse; 
and  it  was  long  after  the  average  time  for  children  before 
he  could  walk  or  talk.  In  the  former  faculty  he  was  never  a 
proficient — in  the  latter  he  soon  became  remarkable.  Even  at 
a  very  early  period,  as  we  have  been  informed  by  those  who 
had  the  means  of  knowing,  he  would  frequently  entertain  the 
haymakers  in  the  hours  of  toil,  and  during  their  meals,  by  a 
conversation  rich  in  sensible  observations  and  sportive  sallies, 
which  secured  their  admiration  and  love.  Happily  the  pre- 
cocity of  his  talent  was  exempt  from  the  usual  fatality  of 
premature  extinction.  Even  at  nine  years  of  age  he  could  not 
be  restricted  to  the  narrow  limits  of  village  school  instruction, 
but  had  read  and  reflected  on  Butler's  Analogy,  and  Jonathan 
Edwards'  Treatises  on  the  Affections  and  the  Will.  This  meta- 
physical bias  he  himself  attributed  to  an  intimate  acquaint- 
tince  with  an  humble  tailor  at  Arnsby,  whom  he  represent- 
ed as  a  very  well-informed,  acute  man.  From  his  character 
in  after-life,  it   would  rather  appear  that  the  dialectical  skill 


ROBERT   HALL.  609 

and  tendencies  were  in  the  child,  for  ^Yhom  it  was  sufficient  to 
find  a  willing  listener  in  the  tailor;  for  it  is  often  characteristic 
of  great  and  generous  minds,  to  attribute  to  others  as  native 
excellence  what  in  fact  is  only  seen  as  reflections  of  their  own. 

His  first  tutor  informed  his  father,  when  his  son  was  only 
eleven  years  of  age,  that  he  was  unable  farther  to  instruct  his 
pupil ;  and  accordingly,  after  a  short  interval,  he  was  taken  to 
the  boarding-school  of  the  Rev.  John  Ryland  of  Northampton, 
with  whom  he  remained  only  a  year  and  a  half.  The  genius  of 
Ryland  (the  father  of  the  late  Dr.  Ryland)  was  of  a  kind  well 
calculated  to  stimulate  his  son;  nor  was  it  unallied  to  it  in  bold 
conception  and  eccentricity.  In  the  latter  respect,  however, 
his  tutor  was  a  meteor  of  wilder  range  and  fiercer  blaze. 

In  September,  1778,  he  became  a  member  of  his  father's 
church,  and  having  given  satisfactory  proofs  of  piety  and  of 
predilection  for  the  Christian  ministry,  he  was  soon  after  sent 
to  the  Bristol  Academy,  whence,  after  three  years,  he  was 
transferred  to  King's  College,  Aberdeen.  While  at  Bristol  he 
was  highl}^  appreciated  both  as  a  student  and  a  speaker.  What 
he  did  and  wrote  uniformly  bore  the  stamp  of  originality;  and 
his  occasional  eff'orts  at  Arnsby,  Clipstone,  and  Kettering, 
during  the  vacations,  excited  great  interest  and  won  him  much 
admiration. 

During  his  college  pursuits  at  Aberdeen,  the  professors  of 
that  period  gave  the  strongest  testimonies  to  his  proficiency  in 
the  various  branches  of  classical,  mathematical,  and  philosophical 
study.  At  the  close  of  his  fourth  year,  he  delivered  a  Greek 
oration,  which  obtained  for  him  much  local  celebrity,  and  this 
was  followed  with  the  honorary  degree  of  Master  of  Arts.  At 
Aberdeen  he  became  associated,  as  well  in  intellectual  pursuits 
as  in  close  friendship,  Avith  Sir  James  Mackintosh.  These  emi- 
nent men  ever  after  retained  for  each  other  sentiments  of  the 
highest  consideration  and  attachment.  They  were  so  marked 
at  college  for  their  unanimity  and  attainments,  that  their  class- 
fellows  would  often  point  to  them,  and  say,  "There  go  Plato 
and  Herodotus." 

We  have  not  in  the  present  instance  to  contemplate  genius 

struggling  amidst  counter-working  agencies,  and  making  its  way 

notwithstanding  the  difficulties ;  but  rather  the  happy  results 

of  a  combination  of  favourable  circumstances  eliciting  much  and 

77 


610  LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

perfecting  its  powers.  That  Hall  would  have  surmounted  ob- 
stacles of  no  ordinary  kind  cannot  be  questioned ;  but  he  was 
not  called  to  the  trial.  Under  the  paternal  roof  he  had  the 
advantage  of  talent  and  experienced  wisdom  to  guide  his  early 
way ;  at  the  boarding-school  he  was  still  powerfully  impelled 
forAvard  by  kindred  genius  and  an  exalted  moral  influence ;  in 
the  Bristol  Institution  he  enjoyed  the  tutorship  of  Hugh  and 
Caleb  Evans,  both  of  them  distinguished  in  their  day;  at  Aber- 
deen his  mental  habits  were  strengthened  b}^  the  companionship 
of  Mackintosh.  Having  imbibed  a  taste  for  literature  and  a 
turn  for  metaphysical  inquiries  in  these  several  schools  of  in- 
struction, not  to  forget  the  books  he  first  read,  and  the  inter- 
course he  held  with  the  celebrated  tailor  at  Arnsby,  he  was 
providentially  preparing  for  that  literary  and  public  career  to 
which  he  was  destined,  and  which  he  was  by  nature  adapted  to 
occupy.  The  bracing  effect  of  that  rivalship,  and  of  those 
friendly  discussions  in  which  he  and  Sir  James  were  wont  daily 
to  engage,  in  their  wanderings  by  the  shore  or  in  the  fields, 
was,  to  one  of  his  order,  like  the  tightening  of  the  strings  of  a 
musical  instrument,  which,  when  wound  up  to  the  right  pitch, 
was  hereafter  to  pour  forth  strains  of  powerful  and  enchanting 
melody.  Sir  James  declared  of  himself,  in  a  letter  to  Hall,  at 
a  distant  period,  that  "  on  the  most  impartial  survey  of  his  early 
life,  he  could  see  nothing  which  so  much  tended  to  excite  and 
invigorate  the  understanding,  to  direct  it  towards  high,  and 
perhaps  scarcely  accessible  objects,  as  his  intimacy  with  his 
honoured  friend."  Examples  of  this  description  have  a  strong 
relation  to  the  question,  Avhether  genius  be  an  innate  and 
original  constituent  of  the  mind,  or  whether  it  be  only  the 
calling  forth,  by  means  of  proper  cultivation,  the  rudiments  of 
thought,  or  the  seminal  principles  of  mental  superiority,  wliich 
may  be  supposed  inherent  in  all  rational  natures.  It  is  hard 
to  conceive,  however,  amidst  innumerable  failures,  that  mere 
diligence,  attended  by  whatever  advantages,  would  work  out 
such  stupendous  results. 

At  the  close  of  1783,  Mr.  Hall  received  an  invitation  to  become 
assistant  pastor  with  Dr.  Caleb  Evans,  at  Broadmead,  Bristol. 
It  was  agreed,  however,  that  he  should  return  to  his  studies  in 
Scotland,  during  the  college  session  of  1784-5.  On  settling  at 
Bristol,  his  preaching  elevated  him  to  the  height  of  popularity, 


ROBERT   HALL  Gil 

being  the  evident  product  of  a  mind  of  extraordinary  vigour  and 
cultivation ;  yet  it  was  deficient  in  evangelical  richness — a  cir- 
cumstance which  none  afterwards  so  deeply  deplored  as  himself. 

In  August,  1785,  he  was  appointed  classical  tutor  in  the 
Bristol  Academy,  a  situation  which  he  held  with  great  reputation 
for  more  than  five  years.  A  painful  misunderstanding  with 
Dr.  Evans,  and  some  difi"erences  of  sentiment  with  the  church, 
at  length  facilitated  his  removal  to  another  sphere  of  labour. 
He  was  invited  to  succeed  Robert  Robinson  at  Cambridge,  and 
went  thither  in  July,  1791.  From  that  period,  we  are  informed 
by  one  of  his  hearers,  the  congregation  gradually  increased,  till 
in  a  few  years  the  enlargement  of  the  place  of  worship  became 
necessary.  Members  of  the  university  frequently,  and  in  con- 
siderable numbers,  attended  in  the  afternoons  on  his  preaching. 
Several  senators,  as  well  as  clergymen  of  the  Established 
Church,  received  their  first  lessons  in  eloquence  from  his  lips. 

The  progress  of  the  French  Revolution,  which  shook  the  very 
foundations  of  society  in  England,  by  splitting  it  into  political 
divisions  of  opinion,  did  not  more  violently  agitate  any  place 
in  the  kingdom  than  Cambridge,  which  was  prolific  in  contro- 
versial pamphlets  and  social  conflicts.  Hall's  ardent  mind 
became  inflamed,  and,  urged  on  by  a  circle  of  intelligent  and 
active  friends,  he  was  induced  to  resist  his  natural  disinclination 
to  writing,  and  produced  a  large  pamphlet,  under  the  title  of 
''An  Apology  for  the  Freedom  of  the  Press,"  which,  though 
composed  with  rapidity,  was  full  of  power,  and  secured  for  him 
much  distinction  as  an  author.  This  early  essay  is  characterized 
by  a  manly  avowal  of  liberal  principles,  communicated  in  lan- 
guage at  once  forcible  and  beautiful,  thundering  with  energy, 
and  lightening  with  flashes  of  brilliant  eloquence. 

The  next  publication  laid  the  basis  of  his  lasting  celebrity  as 
an  author — his  discourse  on  "Modern  Infidelity."  Inde- 
pendently of  its  intrinsic  excellence,  there  were  several  circum- 
stances which  contributed  to  its  popularity.  It  was  remarkably 
vfoW-timedj  and  answered  a  pressing  necessity.  Between  the 
years  1795  and  1799,  many  debating  societies  were  formed  in 
London,  to  which  the  lower  classes  were  allured  on  the  Sunday 
evenings,  under  various  pretences,  and  which  became  in  a  short 
time  the  nurseries  of  infidelity.  The  leaven  of  impiety  spread, 
and  he  had  reason  to  fear  that  not  only  was  the  country  be- 


612  LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

coming  infected,  but  that  the  young  among  his  own  people  wore 
tending  to  skepticism.  This  grieved  his  pious  spirit,  and  roused 
into  exertion  his  utmost  talent.  He  first  delivered  this  sermon 
at  Bristol  in  1800,  and  then  at  Cambridge.  His  own  view  of 
the  case  is  thus  expressed  in  a  preface : — 

"To  obliterate  the  sense  of  Deity,  of  moral  sanctions,  and  a 
future  world;  and  by  these  means  to  prepare  the  way  for  the 
total  subversion  of  every  institution,  both  social  and  religious, 
wliich  men  have  been  hitherto  accustomed  to  revere,  is  evidently 
the  principal  object  of  modern  skeptics — the  first  sophists  who 
have  avowed  an  attempt  to  govern  the  world  without  inculcating 
the  persuasion  of  a  superior  power." 

He  intimates  that  it  is  the  immaculate  holiness  of  the  Chris- 
tian revelation  which  is  precisely  what  renders  it  disgusting  to 
men  who  are  determined,  at  all  events,  to  retain  their  vices. 

"  The  dominion  of  Christianity  being,  in  the  very  essence 
of  it,  the  dominion  of  virtue,  we  need  look  no  further  for  thQ 
sources  of  hostility  in  any  who  oppose  it,  than  their  attachment 
to  vice  and  disorder.  This  view  of  the  controversy,  if  it  be  just, 
demonstrates  its  supreme  importance,  and  furnishes  the  strongest 
plea  Avith  every  one  v/ith  whom  it  is  not  a  matter  of  indiflference 
whether  vice  or  virtue,  delusion  or  truth,  govern  the  world,  to 
exert  his  talents,  in  whatever  proportion  they  are  possessed, 
in  contending  earnestly  for  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the 
saints." 

Another  circumstance  which  contributed  to  the  popularity  of 
this  discourse  was  the  extreme  virulence  of  an  attack  in  the 
"  Cambridge  Intelligencer,"  in  several  letters  by  Mr.  Flower  its 
editor,  which  were  written,  as  was  generally  believed,  in  resent- 
ment for  the  friendly  advice  of  Mr.  Hall  to  alter  the  tone  of  his 
political  disquisitions.  About  the  same  time,  another  attack 
of  equal  virulence  was  made  by  Mr.  Anthony  Robinson,  in  a 
separate  pamphlet.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  lauded  by  the 
most  distinguished  members  of  the  university,  celebrated  by  Dr. 
Parr  in  his  '<  Spital  Sermon,"  extolled  by  individuals  of  literary 
eminence,  and  especially  praised  by  Sir  James  Mackintosh  in 
the  Monthly  Review,  and  privately  circulated  by  him,  to  some 
extent,  among  his  parliamentary  friends.  All  this,  however, 
would  have  been  unavailing  to  give  it  permanent  influence,  and 
U   author  superior   fame,  had  it  not   possessed  extraordinarv 


ROBERT   HALL.  613 

merits.  In  truth  it  can  never  be  read  without  profit,  and  can 
never  perish  while  the  language  lasts. 

Within  a  comparatively  short  period  Mr.  Hall  published  two 
other  sermons,  remarkable  also  for  their  display  of  talent  and 
their  critical  adaptation  to  the  times;  namely,  "Reflections  on 
War,"  and  "The  Sentiments  proper  to  the  present  Crisis." 
These  will  be  lasting  records  of  his  genius,  though  the  exciting 
occasions  of  them  have  passed  away.  The  few  other  sermons 
from  his  pen,  excepting  that  on  the  death  of  the  Princess  Char- 
lotte,  had  relation  to  more  private  events,  though  of  the  deepest 
interest  and  importance — as  "The  Discouragements  and  Sup- 
ports of  the  Christian  Minister,  a  Funeral  Sermon  for  Dr. 
Ryland,"  with  some  others.  Besides  these,  he  published  many 
miscellaneous  pieces,  and  some  controversial  writings;  but  it  is 
not  our  design  either  to  enumerate  or  analyze  his  works.  There 
is  not  one  of  them,  even  the  very  earliest,  that  has  not  his  pe- 
culiar stamp,  the  impress  of  his  original  mind ;  and  in  general 
they  exhibit  a  remarkable  uniformity  of  excellence,  arising,  as 
we  believe,  from  the  nice  balance  of  his  intellectual  powers,  the 
discriminating  accuracy  of  his  taste,  and  the  abundant  labor 
lirtvje  et  mora  which  he  invariably  bestowed  upon  all  his  pro- 
ductions. 

Mr.  Hall  had  always  been  a  great  sufferer  from  a  pain  in  his 
back,  which  generally  compelled  him  to  recline  on  sofas,  benches, 
or  two  or  three  chairs  united,  for  hours  together  in  a  day.  This 
affliction  very  much  increased  in  1803,  so  as  frequently  to  de- 
prive him  of  sleep,  and  produce  very  serious  depressions  of 
spirits.  He  was  advised  to  reside  some  miles  out  of  Cambridge, 
and  only  repair  thither  when  officially  required.  This  plan  of 
.alleviation  was  not,  however,  altogether  successful,  and  the 
mental  malady  placed  him  in  November,  1804,  under  the  care 
of  Dr.  Arnold  of  Leicester.  In  April,  1805,  he  was  so  fully 
restored  as  to  be  able  to  resume  his  ministerial  labours  at  Cam- 
bridge, but  he  lived  nine  miles  from  the  town.  This  procedure 
was  injudicious;  the  seclusion  was  too  entire;  and  in  twelve 
months  another  eclipse  of  reason  rendered  it  necessary  to  obtain 
a  second  course  of  medical  superintendence  at  the  Fish  Ponds, 
near  Bristol.  It  also  compelled  his  resignation  of  the  pastoral 
charge  at  Cambridge.  These  severe  visitations  were  instru- 
mental in  perfecting  his  religious  sentiments  and  his  religious 

3  F 


614  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

cbaiACter.  His  own  impression  was  that  he  had  not  undergo ne 
a  thorough  renewal  of  heart  till  the  first  of  these  seizures.  We 
should  hope  it  was  otherwise,  and  are  disposed  to  believe  that  his 
habitual  low  estimation  of  himself  deceived  him  on  this  subject. 

After  this  second  recovery,  he  resided  for  some  time  at  En- 
derby,  a  retired  village  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Leicester. 
While  there,  the  author  of  the  article  which  is  our  authority 
saw  striking  displays  of  his  peculiarities  both  of  body  and 
mind.  With  regard  to  the  former,  his  temperament  was  sin 
gularly  cold  and  impenetrable  to  the  elements.  While  sitting 
together  for  some  hours  in  a  very  small  parlour,  which  he  had 
heated  by  a  heaped  up  fire,  and  filled  to  suffocation  with  the 
smoke  of  his  favourite  tobacco,  he  suddenly  exclaimed — "  Well, 
sir,  perhaps  you  would  like  a  little  air."  Then  throwing  open 
the  window,  he  deliberately  walked  round  the  garden  several 
times  without  his  hat,  though  he  was  entirely  bald,  and  while 
the  keen  blast  of  a  November  afternoon  was  cutting  the  flesh 
like  a  knife.  At  an  expression  of  surprise  at  this  endurance 
both  of  the  heat  and  the  cold,  he  said,  "  Why,  sir,  as  to  the 
weather,  I  am  not  at  all  affected;  I  could  undertake  to  walk 
both  uncovered  and  barefoot  from  here  to  Leicester,  (five  or  six 
miles,)  without  taking  cold.  As  to  the  fire,  sir,  I  am  very  fond 
of  it.  I  should  like  to  have  a  fire  before,  and  a  fire  behind,  and 
a  fire  on  each  side."  Whether  the  yet  unsubsided  irritability 
of  his  mind  might  not  have  exercised  some  peculiar  influence 
over  the  physical  nature  to  produce  these  phenomena,  must  be 
left  to  physiologists  to  determine ;  it  is  certain  they  existed. 

On  the  ensuing  morning,  he  referred  with  great  interest  and 
emotion  to  the  celebrated  article  against  missions  which  had 
recently  appeared  in  the  Edinburgh  Eevieto,  and  said  that  Mr. 
Fuller  had  very  much  urged  him  to  undertake  a  reply. — "With 
some  difficulty,  I  yielded,  sir,  to  the  solicitations  of  such  a  man, 
and  for  sucli  a  cause.  I  have,  in  fact,  written  about  twelve 
pagesj  I  should  like  your  opinion  thus  far:  will  you  permit  me 
to  read  them  to  you?"  He  did  so;  and  if  memory  do  not 
deceive,  the  power  of  the  argument,  the  brilliancy  of  the  wit, 
and  the  elegance  of  the  diction  equalled,  if  not  surpassed,  any 
of  his  compositions.  Yet  with  all  characteristic  humility  he 
said — "I  think,  however,  Andrew  Fuller  would  have  succeeded 
better  in  his  way.     I  wish  he  had  done  it  himself;  but  I  could 


ROBERT    HALL.  515 

hot  persuade  him.  I  think  I  can't  finish  it  now."  So  it  proved. 
The  document  is  lost,  and  prob:xbly  shared  the  fate  of  some  of 
the  finest  productions  of  his  intellect — that  of  lighting  his  pipe  ! 

During  his  residence  at  Enderby,  Mr.  Hall  frequently  preached 
in  the  surrounding  villages,  and  occasionally  at  Harvey  Lane, 
Leicester,  the  scene  of  Dr.  Carey's  former  labours.  With  the 
people  of  this  congregation  he  ultimately  associated  himself  as 
minister  in  1807,  and  this  connection  continued  unbroken  for 
nearly  twenty  years.  These  were  probably  the  happiest  of  his 
life,  for  in  addition  to  his  domestic  enjoyments,  (he  married  in 
1808,)  the  attendance  on  his  ministry  increased  from  three 
hundred  to  a  thousand,  with  manifest  tokens  of  public  useful 
ness.  Without  abating  in  his  direct  pastoral  exertions,  he  was 
excited  to  increased  activity  in  promoting  Bible,  Missionary, 
and  other  important  societies.  It  was  here  the  great  luminary 
rose  to  its  meridian  splendour,  and  diifused  abroad  its  most 
benignant  radiance.  "  Churchmen  and  Dissenters ;  men  of  rank 
and  influence ;  individuals  in  lower  stations ;  men  of  simple 
piety,  and  others  of  deep  theological  knowledge ;  men  who  ad- 
mired Christianity  as  a  beautiful  system,  and  those  who  received 
it  into  the  heart  by  faith;  men  in  doubt,  others  involved  in  un- 
belief: all  resorted  to  the  place  where  he  was  announced  as  the 
preacher."  During  this  period,  also,  were  issued  several  brief 
but  beautiful  publications. 

On  the  death  of  Dr.  Ryland,  he  was  invited  to  succeed  him 
in  the  pastoral  ofiice  at  Broadmead,  Bristol,  to  which  request, 
after  frequent  and  painful  revolutions  of  feeling,  he  finally 
yielded,  believing  that  he  was  providentially  called  to  the  change 
of  his  ministerial  sphere.  Here  he  attracted  great  attention,  aa 
in  other  places,  though  his  powers  were  perhaps  a  little  enfeebled 
by  advancing  years ;  while  the  happy  association  into  which  he 
was  introduced  with  ministers  and  laymen  of  all  denominations, 
and  the  stimulating  effect  of  those  delightful  reminiscences 
which  sprung  up  among  a  few  remaining  friends  of  his  early  life, 
tended  to  re-excite  his  energies,  and  to  shed  sunshine  over  the 
descending  path  to  the  tomb.  He  still  gladdened  society  by  his 
visits,  and  pursued  his  own  pleasure  and  improvement  by  read- 
ing. His  favourite  classical  writers  were  his  frequent  resort, 
while  his  devotional  spirit  renewed  its  vigour  by  enlarged 
draughts  at  the  fountain  of  inspiration.      Of  the  commentators. 


616  LIVES  OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

Matthew  Henrj  was  most  prized,  and  daily  read  in  considerable 
portions.  He  continued  also  to  practise  occasional  fasting, 
which  he  had  begun  at  Leicester,  according  to  his  own  testi- 
mony, with  the  greatest  advantage.  His  religion  seemed  to  run 
parallel  with  the  increase  of  his  personal  sufferings,  which  were 
progressively  severe,  especially  as  he  became  plethoric,  and  his 
old  complaint  in  the  back  strengthened  with  his  decline.  A 
temporary  absence  at  Coleford,  in  the  forest  of  Dean,  appeared 
to  recruit  his  health,  but  the  effect  was  of  transient  duration. 
He  had  frequent  spasmodic  affections  of  the  chest,  and  immediate 
dissolution  was  threatened  on  the  1st  of  January,  1831,  but  it 
passed  off,  leaving  apparently  on  his  mind  more  impressive  sen- 
timents of  the  coming  eternity.  With  these,  all  his  subsequent 
public  addresses  were  deeply  imbued;  till  he  engaged  in  his 
last  service,  which  was  a  church  meeting,  on  the  9th  of  Feb- 
ruary. On  the  next  day,  he  had  just  retired  to  his  study  to 
prepare  his  usual  monthly  sermon,  in  anticipation  of  the  ap- 
proaching Sabbath  of  communion,  Avhen  he  was  seized  with  the 
first  of  the  series  of  paroxysms  which  terminated  in  his  death. 
This  solemn  event  took  place  on  the  21st  of  February,  1831,  at 
the  age  of  sixty-six. 

In  some  of  the  more  private  virtues  of  life  Robert  Hall  was 
unsurpassed.  Of  these  we  do  not  recollect  having  seen  his 
humanity  particularly  noticed,  though  it  was  in  reality  a  very 
striking  feature  of  his  character.  It  resulted  alike  from  the 
benevolence  of  his  affections  and  the  extreme  sensibility  of  his 
mind.  Two  specimens  of  this  are  in  our  recollection  at  this 
moment: — the  one  in  the  way  of  resentment,  the  other  of  com- 
passion. A  certain  popular  minister  in  his  circle  occupied  a 
piece  of  pasture-land  attached  to  his  house,  in  the  fence  of  which 
a  poor  sheep  had  entangled  its  head,  having  obtruded  it  between 
the  rails,  without  the  power  of  extricating  itself.  This  man, 
who  was  excessively  choleric,  beat  the  animal  until  it  expired; 
for  which  barbarity  Hall  never  could  forgive  him;  and  no  efforts 
at  reconciliation,  though  repeatedly  attempted  by  mutual  friends, 
could  ever  succeed.  While  the  barbarity  would  doubtless  have 
prejudiced  most  minds,  his  acute  sensibility  for  the  speechless 
sufferer  led  him  to  treat  it  as  a  kind  of  personal  offence  to  his 
nature.  The  other  instance  was  one  in  which  be  was  endangered 
by  the  fall  of  a  horse.      The  friend  with  whom  he  was  travelling 


ROBERT   HALL.  617 

expressed  much  anxiety  as  to  any  injury  he  might  have  sustained, 
but  could  elicit  no  other  answer  to  his  repeated  questions  than 
— "  Poor  animal !  is  he  hurt,  sir ;  is  he  hurt  ?  I  hope,  sir,  the 
poor  horse  is  not  hurt."  This  was  no  affectation  of  kindness; 
he  had  too  much  genuine  simplicity  of  character  to  render  that 
possible :  it  was  the  outpouring  of  an  exquisite  sensibility. 

To  the  same  general  principle  may  be  referred  his  politeness ; 
which  was  not  m  him  an  obedience  to  the  conventional  laws  of 
society,  but  the  dictate  of  a  mind  alive  to  the  circumstances  of 
others,  and  a  heart  full  of  feeling.  He  had  learned  of  the 
apostle  to  be  '<  courteous,"  in  the  most  exalted  sense  of  the 
term;  and  always  repaid  the  smallest  offices  of  kindness  with 
exuberant  expressions  of  gratitude. 

Consider aten  ess  was  a  remarkable  trait  of  his  character.  In 
fact,  it  was  sometimes  almost  ludicrously  punctilious.  Among 
many  proofs  of  this  with  which  the  writer  who  is  our  authority 
was  familiar,  he  mentions  what  occurred  on  one  occasion  when 
he  had  accompanied  him  on  a  journey  to  the  North.  The 
travellers  had  taken  up  their  abode  at  an  inn,  and  while  dis- 
charging the  account  the  next  morning,  he  said,  with  some 
earnestness — "Pay  that  man  a  penny,  sir,  for  me."  The  as- 
tonishment and  the  smile  may  easily  be  conceived.  He  per- 
sisted ;  adding,  '<  I  will  tell  you  how  it  is,  sir.  I  usually  burn 
a  rushlight,  but  forgot  to  mention  it,  and  being  late,  I  did  not 
choose  to  disturb  any  one.  So  I  burnt  out  the  cj^ndle,  which. 
I  am  sure  was  at  least  worth  an  extra  penny,  upon  which  the 
landlord  could  not  calculate."  This  might  seem  to  be  a  trifling 
incident,  but  as  indicative  of  character,  deserves  to  be  recorded. 
Another  of  a  different  kind  was  connected  with  it.  When 
approaching  the  town  in  question,  he  said — ''Now,  sir,  a  very 
excellent  Independent  minister  resides  here,  but  he  is  poor. 
He  cannot  afford  to  entertain  us,  but  we  should  be  pleased  with 
his  company,  and  ought,  I  think,  sir,  to  show  him  respect. 
Besides,  he  would  be  grieved  to  hear  that  we  had  been  in  town, 
and  never  thought  of  seeing  him.  With  your  permission,  we 
will  secure  our  beds,  order  what  we  should  like,  and  then  send 
to  invite  him  to  sup  with  us  at  the  inn.  And  there,  sir,  it  is 
not* improbable,  some  of  his  friends  will  have  found  us  out,  and 
we  will  •^-ccept  any  invitation  to  breakfast  in  the  morning,  wher« 
78  3  F  2 


618  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

the  worthy  man  will,  no  doubt,  be  invited  to  meet  us,  and  thus 
he  will  be  spared,  and  we  shall  all  be  gratified." 

The  humility  of  Hall  has  been  expatiated  upon  by  all  who 
have  attempted  to  describe  him.  It  was,  however,  humility 
unallied  with  ridiculous  self-depreciation,  and  totally  remote 
from  every  thing  like  cringing  sycophancy.  It  cannot  be  sup- 
posed that  such  a  man  was  insensible  to  his  own  mental  supe- 
riority; and  in  truth  the  consciousness  of  it  was  at  times  dis- 
played incidentally,  but  never  pompously.  Though  he  would 
in  general  repudiate  applause,  yet  there  were  occasions  when 
he  would  receive  it  with  an  apparent  satisftiction.  He  would 
frequently  inquire  of  his  intimate  friends  what  they  thought  of 
his  discourses  immediately  after  their  delivery;  but  his  manner 
of  doing  so  would  rather  indicate  an  inward  sense  of  un worthi- 
ness and  insufficiency,  than  a  desire  to  obtain  approbation.  In 
addition  to  his  own  experience,  the  writer  has  often  heard  the 
late  Mr.  William  Hollick  of  Cambridge,  state,  that  he  usually 
walked  with  him  to  his  lodging  in  St.  Andrew  Street,  on  the 
Sunday  morning  after  service;  when  Mr.  Hall  scarcely  ever 
failed  to  put  the  question — "Well,  sir,  what  did  you  think  of 
my  sermon  ?"  Mr.  Hollick  soon  discovered,  that  he  almosi 
invariably  disagreed  in  opinion ;  and  often  expressly  put  him 
to  the  test,  by  veiling  his  own  real  sentiments.  Thus,  if  Mr. 
Hollick  expressed  a  high  estimate  of  the  discourse,  he  would 
say,  "No,  sir,  I  don't  think  you  are  right.  I  thhik  nothing  of 
it;  I  was  nof  so  much  at  liberty  as  I  could  have  wished."  If 
the  contrary  sentiment  were  uttered,  he  would  say  in  a  half- 
jesting  manner — "Pretty  well,  sir,  I  think."  These  conversa- 
tions evinced  considerable  sensitiveness;  they  also  showed  that 
he  had  made  a  tolerable  estimate  of  his  own  powers ;  but,  con- 
nected as  they  were  with  evident  manifestations  of  piety,  they 
also  proved  that  he  was  intensely  concerned,  not  so  much  about 
his  personal  reputation,  as  for  the  moral  and  spiritual  efi*ects  of 
his  ministry.  A  little  incident  that  has  come  to  our  knowledge 
affords  a  further  display  of  this  part  of  his  character.  A  brother 
minister  had  on  one  occasion  heard  him  preach  with  peculiar 
satisfaction.  A  considerable  time  afterwards  he  met  him  ;  and 
having  a  vivid  remembrance  of  the  discourse  in  which  he  had 
been  so  interested,  took  an  opportunity  of  adverting  to  it  in 
terms  of  ardent  eulogy.      Instead  of  receiving  this  approbation 


ROBERT    HALL.  619 

Tith  a  self-suflBcient  air,  he  replied — "Yes,  sir,  yes;  the  Lord 
was  with  me  on  that  day."  But  whatever  he  might  occasionally 
seem  before  man,  (and  then  even  in  his  most  unbent  and  joyous 
moments  a  person  must  have  had  a  keen  eye  indeed  who  could 
have  detected  the  little  arts  of  vanity  and  self-exaltation,)  his 
humility  appeared  to  be  perfect  before  God.  The  simplicity  of 
his  expressions,  the  evident  prostration  of  his  spirit,  and  the 
fervour  of  his  pleadings  in  prayer,  furnished  extraordinary 
proofs  of  this  characteristic. 

So  habitually  devout  and  vigorous  was  his  mind,  that  he  was 
capable  of  the  most  sudden  and  singular  transitions  from  inter- 
course with  man  to  intercourse  with  Heaven.  The  following 
is  a  curious  instance  of  this.  Mr.  Hall  had  been  indulging  in 
that  species  of  innocent  merriment  and  jocularity  to  which  he 
sometimes  yielded ;  and  in  the  midst  of  a  very  humorous  story, 
the  clock  struck  twelve — in  an  instant  he  laid  down  his  pipe, 
exclaiming,  "  Sir,  it  is  midnight,  and  we  have  not  had  fimily 
prayer."  The  next  moment  he  was  on  his  knees,  absolutely 
absorbed  in  devotion,  and  pouring  forth  the  most  solemn  and 
reverential  petitions  at  the  footstool  of  mercy. 

Another  instance  at  once  of  his  religious  ardour  and  filial 
tenderness  occurred  at  Arnsby  on  a  visit.  It  was  related  to 
the  present  writer  by  one  of  the  witnesses.  On  his  way  from 
Leicester  he  had  expatiated  on  his  father's  excellences,  and  the 
scenes  of  his  earliest  days.  As  soon  as  he  entered  the  house 
in  which  his  father  had  resided,  he  hastened  into  the  parlour,  fell 
on  his  knees,  and  poured  forth  the  most  devout  and  fervent  sup- 
plications. The  two  or  three  individuals  who  were  near  speed- 
ily withdrew,  that  they  might  not  interrupt  his  feeling.  Soon 
afterwards  he  went  into  the  burial-ground,  and  dropping  on  his 
knees  at  his  father's  grave,  with  his  hands  extended  over  the 
monumental  stone,  and  his  eyes  closed,  he  offered  up  an  extra- 
ordinary series  of  petitions.  Among  these  he  breathed  forth 
an  impassioned  desire  to  "join  the  blessed  company  above ;" 
and  entreated  that  he  might  be  "  permitted  to  know  his  departed 
father  in  the  heavenly  world;  and  that  their  united  prayers, 
often  presented  on  earth,  might  be  then  turned  into  praise, 
while  they  beheld  their  'Redeemer  face  to  face  together.'  " 

His  writings  sufficiently  attest  the  liberality  of  his  religious 
views.     In  some  instances,  indeed,  he  has  expressed  himself  in 


C20  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

terms  which  will  be  deemed  severe  ;  but  he  was  <'  a  lover  of  all 
good  men,"  while  he  firmly  maintained  his  sentiments  as  a  dis- 
senter and  a  Baptist.  He  cultivated  much  intercourse  with 
many  who  differed  from  him  in  both  respects,  and  never,  it  is 
believed,  gave  them  any  real  occasion  of  offence.  Sometimes 
he  would  indulge  in  a  little  sarcasm  and  raillery  at  their  pe- 
culiarities; but  his  wit  was  the  flash  of  the  innocuous  summer 
lightning,  attracting  rather  by  its  beauty  and  playfulness,  than 
injuring  by  its  stroke. 

He  was  greatly  distinguished  for  his  conversational  powers, 
and  was  generally  very  communicative.  In  this  respect  a 
parallel  might  be  instituted  between  him  and  Coleridge,  pre- 
senting, however,  some  striking  diversities.  Coleridge  was 
more  studied  in  his  conversations ;  Hall  more  free  and  spon- 
taneous. Coleridge  was  frequently  involved  and  metaphysical; 
Hall  simple,  natural,  and  intelligible.  Coleridge  usurped  and 
engrossed  conversation ;  Hall  never  did  so  voluntarily.  Cole- 
ridge could  and  would  talk  upon  any  thing ;  Hall  required  to 
be  more  invited  and  brought  out  by  the  remarks  or  inquiries 
of  others.  Coleridge  was  more  profound;  Hall  more  brilliant. 
Coleridge  did  not  deal  in  polished  sentences,  but  would  con- 
tinue to  talk  for  hours  in  a  plain  and  careless  diction ;  Hall 
was  invariably  elegant  and  classical,  commonly  vivacious  and 
sparkling  with  wit.  Coleridge  was  sure  to  be  heard  ;  Hall  to 
be  remembered.  Coleridge  had  the  advantage  of  a  more  uni- 
versal knowledge ;  Hall  of  a  more  unencumbered  and  clearly 
perceptive  intellect.  Each  was  in  his  day  the  first  of  his  class, 
rarely  equalled,  and  probably  never  surpassed. 

The  conversations  of  Robert  Hall  abounded  in  wit,  fine  dis- 
criminations of  character,  and  profound  estimates  of  eminent 
authors.* 

*  We  are  indebted  for  thia  sketch  of  Robert  Hall  to  the  "  North  British 
Review." 


THOMAS   CLARKSON. 


621 


THOMAS  CLARKSON. 


HOMAS  CLARKSON,  whose  labours  for  the 
suppression  of  the  slave  trade  entitle  him  to 
a  place  among  philanthropists  beside  Howard 
and  Eliot,  was  born  in  England,  in  1761. 
Originally  designed  for  the  ministry,  he 
studied  at  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge,  and 
at  an  early  age  gave  promise  of  great  talents. 
He  several  times  triumphed  in  competition  for 
college  prizes  ;  and  in  1785  obtained  the  first 
prize  for  a  Latin  essay  on  the  subject  "Is  it  Just 
to  make  men  Slaves  against  their  Will  ?" 
Up  to  this  time  Clarkson  indulged  hopes  of  enter- 
ing the  ministry.  Providence  had  appointed  him  to 
another  work.  The  researches  necessary  to  the  com- 
position of  his  essay  seem  to  have  left  deep  impressions 
upon  his  mind ;  and  thenceforth  he  directed  his  atten- 
tion to  the  subject  of  the  amelioration  of  the  African  race.  In 
1786  he  published  an  "  Essay  on  the  Slavery  and  Commerce  of 
the  Human  Species,  particularly  the  African,"  which  was  a 
translation  of  his  prize  paper.  It  produced  a  great  sensation ; 
and  reacting  through  public  opinion  upon  the  author,  fired  him 
with  an  enthusiasm  which,  in  a  less  important  cause,  might  have 
been  named  madness.  Although  already  possessed  of  deacon's 
orders,  he  resigned  them,  abandoned  his  former  intentions, 
joined  Mr.  Wilberforce  and  other  philanthropists,  and  devoted 
every  energy  of  his  mind  to  his  new  subject.  In  1787,  a  small 
society  was  formed  with  a  view  to  the  suppression  of  the  slave 
trade ;  in  1788  appeared  his  book  "  On  the  Impolicy  of  the 
African  Slave  Trade ;"  in  1789  his  «'  Comparative  Efiicacy 
of  the  Regulation  or  Abolition  as  applied  to  the  African  Slave 
Trade." 

But  his  labours  were  not  confined  to  the  pen.     Though  ex- 


022  LIVES   OP  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

posed  to  the  scorn  of  merchants  and  dealers,  he  visited  Bristol, 
Liverpool  and  other  large  cities,  with  a  view  to  the  formation  of 
anti-slave-trade  societies ;  he  endeavoured  to  win  the  co-opera- 
tion of  Mr.  Pitt ;  he  appeared  before  the  privy-council,  with  a 
box  of  various  articles  manufactured  in  Africa  by  Africans,  in 
order  to  prove  that  the  free  negroes  were  capable  of  becoming 
valuable  auxiliaries  to  commerce.  In  1791  he  published  "  Let- 
ters on  the  Slave  Trade,"  and  in  1807,  "  Three  Letters  to  the 
Planters  and  Slave  Merchants."  His  zeal  aroused  the  exertions 
of  many  good  men  in  Great  Britain  and  on  the  Continent ;  but 
while  Pitt  remained  in  power,  circumstances  prevented  any  mea- 
sure of  importance  on  the  subject  in  parliament.  With  the 
ministry  of  Mr.  Fox  daw^ied  a  better  day  ;  and  acts  of  abolition 
were  speedily  passed  by  large  majorities. 

The  great  work  for  which  Clarkson  had  sacrificed  and  toiled 
so  much  was  now^  accomplished ;  and  after  a  warfare  of  twenty 
years,  against  prejudice,  bigotry,  and  high-handed  iniquity,  sup- 
ported by  the  strong  arm  of  power,  it  is  refreshing  to  see  him 
retiring  victoriously  from  the  field,  and  passing  in  well-deserved 
repose  the  remainder  of  his  life.  His  pursuits  during  this  re- 
tirement were  chiefly  literary.  His  "  Portraiture  of  Quaker- 
ism," and  his  "Life  of  John  Penn  "  exhibit  the  many  virtues 
and  the  few  errors  of  the  Friends,  with  rare  historical  justice. 
He  had  found  the  members  of  t,hat  sect  of  great  assistance  to 
him  during  his  contest  with  the  slave  dealers.  In  1808,  ap- 
peared his  "  History  of  the  Abolition  of  the  Slave  Trade,"  the 
most  valuable  perhaps  of  his  works.  The  labour  of  love  which 
he  accomplished,  in  the  face  of  so  many  difiiculties,  forms  an 
important  era  in  the  history  of  human  advancement.  He  died 
SeptenJber  26,  1846. 


THOMAS  ARNOLD. 


623 


DR.    THOMAS   ARNOLD. 


nOMAS  ARNOLD,  late  professor  of  History 
at  Oxford,  was  born  June  13,  1795,  at  West 
Clowes,  Isle  of  Wight.  He  began  his  student's 
course  at  Warminster,  was  transferred  to  Win- 
chester, and  finally  to  Corpus  Christi  College, 
Oxford.  The  strong  home  and  local  attach- 
ments, the  quick  historical  fancy  and  memory, 
the  love  of  poetry,  and  the  remarkable  fondness 
for  geography,  which  were  such  leading  qualities 
of  his  mature  mind,  all  showed  themselves  in  his 
childhood.  At  Winchester  he  read  and  re-read 
with  increased  avidity  Gibbon,  Mitford,  Russell,  and 
*riestley  ;  and  though  but  fourteen  years  old,  devoted 
himself  to  the  extermination  of  half  the  Roman  history, 
which  he  verily  believed  is,  '<if  not  totally  false,  at  least 
scandalously  exaggerated."  At  the  time  of  his  entering 
Oxford  he  is  described  as  a  mere  boy  in  appearance  as  well  as 
in  age,  yet  quite  equal  to  take  his  part  in  the  arguments  of  the 
common  room ;  fond  of  conversation  on  serious  matters,  vehe- 
ment in  argument,  fearless  in  advancing  his  opinions,  candid, 
good  tempered,  and  destitute  of  vanity  or  conceit. 

Of  his  college  life  nothing  of  much  interest  is  known.  After 
leaving  Oxford,  where  he  remained  nine  years,  he  settled  at 
Laleham  near  Staines,  where  he  devoted  himself  to  teaching 
and  improvement  in  general  reading.  During  this  period  he 
appears  also  to  have  thought  much  on  the  subject  of  religion, 
"  The  management  of  my  own  mind  (he  writes  to  a  friend)  is  a 
thinoj  8)0  difficult  and  brinojs  me  into  contact  with  so  much  that 
is  so  strangely  mysterious,  that  I  stand  at  times  quite  bewildered, 
in  a  chaos  where  I  can  see  no  light  either  before  or  behind. 
How  much  of  this  is  constitutional  and  physical  I  cannot  tell, 
perhaps  a  great  deal  of  it ;  yet  it  is  surely  dangerous  to  look 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

upon  all  the  struggles  of  the  mind  as  arising  from  the  state  of 
the  body  or  the  "weather,  and  so  resolve  to  bestow  no  more  at 
tention  upon  them."  In  this  thoughtful  but  interesting  state, 
examining  and  forming  his  character,  he  remained  until  his 
election  to  Rugby  in  1827.  The  promotion  gave  him  a  super- 
intendence of  the  public  school  system,  then  in  vogue,  in  Eng- 
land ;  and  to  correct  its  many  errors,  he  applied  all  his  energy 
and  talents.  His  influence  in  correcting  the  growing  tendency 
to  irreligion,  which  had,  during  a  long  period,  prevailed  in  the 
schools,  is  described  by  Dr.  Moberly,  then  a  stranger  to  Arnold  : 
"  A  most  singular  and  striking  change  has  come  over  our  public 
schools,  a  change  too  great  for  any  person  to  appreciate  ade- 
quately who  has  not  known  them  in  both  these  times.  *  =i=  'i^  I 
am  sure  that  to  Dr.  Arnold's  personal,  earnest  simplicity  of 
purpose,  strength  of  character,  power  of  influence,  and  piety, 
which  none  who  ever  came  near  him  could  mistake  or  question, 
the  carrying  of  this  improvement  into  our  schools  is  mainly 
attributable.  He  was  the  first.  It  soon  began  to  be  a  matter 
of  observation  to  us  that  his  pupils  brought  quite  a  different 
character  to  Oxford  from  that  which  we  had  known  elsewhere  ; 
and  we  looked  upon  Dr.  Arnold  as  exercising  an  influence  for 
good  which  had  been  absolutely  unknown  to  our  public  schools." 

His  amiable,  though  decided  character,  won  the  affection  and 
respect  of  his  pupils.  His  labours  as  a  teacher  and  a  minister 
were  so  great  that  he  could  devote  but  two  hours  to  study  or 
writing  ;  yet  such  was  his  employment  of  time,  that  we  are 
indebted  to  the  diligent  application  of  those  spare  hours  for  his 
edition  of  Thuycidides,  three  volumes  of  the  Roman  history, 
five  volumes  of  sermons,  many  pamphlets,  and  an  extensive  cor- 
respondence. The  enthusiasm  in  the  cause  of  virtue,  with 
which  he  inspired  his  pupils,  is  deserving  of  all  praise.  Their 
characters  seemed  to  grow  upon  his,  while  they  looked  up  to 
him  as  a  friend,  a  teacher,  and  a  father.  Yet  nothing  weak  or 
inconsistent,  neither  vanity  nor  passion  marred  the  impression 
of  his  ability,  his  simple  earnestness,  his  high  standard  of  duty, 
and  his  devotion  to  his  appointed  work. 

In  March,  1828,  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Divinity  had  been 
conferred  on  Arnold ;  and  in  December  of  the  same  year 
the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity.  He  remained  at  Rugby 
School  as  head  master  until  1841,  when,  on  the  death  of  Dr.. 


THOMAS  ARNOLD.  625 

Nares,  he  was  appointed  Regius  Professor  of  Modern  History  at 
Oxford.  He  retained  his  connection  with  Rugby,  which  through 
his  exertions  was  raised,  as  we  have  seen,  to  a  high  degree  of 
eminence.  His  masterly  lectures  on  History,  delivered  at  Ox- 
ford, have  been  warmly  applauded  in  Europe  and  America. 
But  his  course  there  was  but  short;  on  the  12th  of  June,  1842, 
when  within  one  day  of  completing  his  forty-seventh  year,  a 
spasm  of  the  heart  cut  short  his  brilliant  career 

We  have  mentioned  but  few  of  the  labours  and  writings  of 
this  learned  and  pious  man.  In  1835,  the  office  of  Fellowship 
in  the  Senate  of  the  new  London  University  was  tendered  to 
him,  which  he  accepted,  but  withdrew  in  1838.  In  politics  he 
was  a  Whig,  yet  decided  in  opposition  to  radicalism.  He  was 
an  uncompromising  opponent  to  the  new  Oxford  theology,  or 
Puseyism.  A  large  portion  of  his  time  was  devoted  to  labours 
for  the  amelioration  of  the  poor,  and  especially  the  working 
poor.  For  this  purpose  he  delivered  lectures  at  the  Rugby  Me- 
chanics Institute,  wrote  letters  to  various  periodicals,  and  estab- 
lished a,  newspaper  for  the  lower  classes.  Vigour  of  thought, 
clearness  of  expression,  and  purity  of  style  characterize  his  his- 
torical writings,  and  indeed  most  of  his  productions,  whether 
permanent  or  temporary. 

The  character  of  Dr.  Arnold  was  rare  and  remarkable.  He 
united  the  enthusiasm  of  the  child  to  the  stern  penetration  of  the 
statesman.  There  was  a  freshness  and  a  pla3'fulness  in  his  domes- 
tic and  friendly  manners,  which  reminds  one  of  the  attachments  of 
school  girls ;  and  yet  even  in  his  laughing  conversation  he  rea- 
soned on  history  and  religion,  and  politics  and  public  improve- 
ment, with  a  sagacity  with  which  few  of  his  day  are  blessed.  In  the 
evening  he  often  jogged  on  foot  beside  his  wife's  pony,  chatting 
about  Thucydides,  Herodotus,  and  Hannibal ;  and  on  his  return 
sat  down  to  write  Greek  commentaries.  Christianity  he  regard- 
ed as  the  remedy  for  all  the  sin  and  suffering  in  society ;  hence 
he  strove  to  reanimate  a  moral  power  in  the  community,  and  to 
give  to  government,  as  its  chief  principle,  a  moral  law.  To  do 
his  duty  to  mankind, — in  his  school,  his  writings,  his  preaching, 
was  his  sole  ideal  of  happiness.  Literature  and  literary  enjoy- 
ments he  kept  in  the  back-ground ;  and  he  caused  his  friends 
to  regard  him  not  as  a  learned  man,  but  as  one  wholly  absorbed 
in  the  earnestness  of  duty.  His  character,  as  far  as  man  can 
7Q  "  3  G 


626  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

judge,  was  faultless,  and  because  it  was  faultless  his  example  has 

come  to  us,  the  same. 

An  extract  from  the  doctor's  diary,  the  night  before  his  death, 
cannot  but  be  interesting  to  all.  It  is,  Ave  believe,  his  last  writ- 
ing. "  The  day  after  to-morrow  is  my  birthday,  if  I  am  permit- 
ted to  live  to  see  it,  my  forty-seventh  birthday  since  my  birth. 
How  large  a  portion  of  my  life  on  earth  has  already  passed ! 
And  then  what  is  to  follow  this  life  ?  How  visibly  my  outward 
work  seems,  contracting  and  softening  away  into  the  gentler  em- 
ployments of  old  age.  In  one  sense,  how  nearly  can  I  now  say 
'  Vixi.'  And  I  thank  God  that  as  far  as  ambition  is  concerned 
it  is,  I  trust,  fully  mortified.  I  have  no  desire  other  than  to  step 
back  from  my  present  place  in  the  world,  and  not  to  rise  to  a 
higher.  Still  there  are  works  which,  with  God's  permission,  I 
would  do  before  the  night  cometh  ;  especially  that  great  work,  if 
I  might  be  permitted  to  take  part  in  it.  But  above  all,  let  me 
mind  my  own  personal  work, — to  keep  myself  pure,  and  zealous, 
and  believing,  labouring  to  do  God's  will  yet  not  anxious  that  it 
should  be  done  by  me  rather  than  by  others,  if  God  disapproves 
of  my  doing  it." 


THOMAS  WILSON. 


627 


THOMAS   WILSON. 


ISHOP  of  Sodor  and  Man,  was  born  at  Burton, 

in  Cheshire,  at  the  latter  end  of  1663.  From 
private  school  in  his  native  county,  he  was 
removed  to  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  where  he 
took  his  degrees  in  arts,  and  obtained  ordina- 
tion. His  first  pastoral  employment  appears 
to  have  been  as  curate  at  Winwich,  in  Lanca- 
shire. In  1692,  he  became  chaplain  to  the  Earl 
of  Derby,  preceptor  to  that  nobleman's  son,  and, 
about  the  same  time,  master  of  Latham  almshouse. 
In  1697-8,  "he  was  forced,"  to  use  his  own  words, 
"  into  the  bishopric  of  the  Isle  of  Man,'*  and  had  the 
degree  of  LL.  D.  conferred  upon  him  by  the  pri- 
mate. Although  his  episcopal  revenues  did  not  ex- 
ceed £300  per  annum,  he  contrived,  not  only  to  sup- 
port the  dignity  of  his  station,  but  to  rebuild  the 
palace,  at  an  expense  of  £1400,  to  erect  a  chapel  at  Castleton, 
to  establish  parochial  libraries,  to  improve  the  agriculture  of 
the  island,  and  to  relieve  many  of  the  distressed  among  its  in- 
habitants. Shortly  after  his  appointment  to  the  bishopric,  he 
was  offered  a  rich  living  in  Yorkshire,  Avhich  he  might  have 
held  in  commendani,  with  his  see,  but,  being  hostile  to  plurali- 
ties and  non-residence,  he  declined  to  accept  it.  In  1799, 
he  published  a  small  tract  in  Manx  and  English,  the  first  work 
ever  printed  in  the  former  tongue,  entitled  "  The  Principles  and 
Duties  of  Christianity."  In  1703,  he  prepared  his  celebrated 
"  Ecclesiastical  Constitutions  ;"  and  so  admirable  was  his  con- 
duct as  a  prelate,  that  the  universities  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge 
honoured  him  with  the  degree  of  D.  D.,  and  Lord  Chancellor 
King  declared  that,  "  if  the  ancient  discipline  of  the  church 
were  lost  elsewhere,  it  might  be  found  in  all  its  purity  in  the 
Lde  of  Man."     About  the  year  1721,  he  thought  proper  to  de- 


628  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

nounce  the  Independent  Whig  as  a  dangerous  and  immoral  pub^ 
li cation,  and  to  cause  several  copies  of  it  to  be  seized.  The 
officer,  who  performed  this  duty,  having  taken  possession  of  one 
belonging  to  the  public  library,  the  governor  committed  him  to 
prison,  and,  it  is  stated,  behaved  with  some  harshness  to  the 
bishop  himself;  who  rendered  the  dispute  more  serious,  by  inter- 
dicting the  governor's  lady  from  the  communion  table,  because 
slie  had  contumaciously  refused  to  atone  for  the  offence  of  defam- 
ing a  female  acquaintance.  The  governor,  in  return,  fined  the 
bishop  .£50,  and  for  default  of  payment,  committed  him  to  the 
damp  and  gloomy  prison  of  Castle  Rushin,  from  the  grated  win- 
dows of  which,  the  incarcerated  prelate  is  said  to  have  exhorted 
his  indignant  flock  not  to  commit  any  breach  of  the  peace.  An 
appeal,  on  his  behalf,  being  made  to  the  privy-council,  the  go- 
vernor's proceedings  were  declared  to  be  irregular ;  and  the 
bishop  was  soon  afterwards  offered  the  see  of  Exeter,  which,  how- 
ever, he  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  accept ;  nor,  it  is  said, 
could  he  be  induced  to  bring  an  action  against  the  governor  for 
damages,  although  the  rigour  of  his  confinement  had  produced 
a  disorder  which  so  disabled  his  fingers  that  he  was  ever  after- 
wards compelled,  when  writing,  to  grasp  the  pen  in  the  palm  of 
his  hand.  After  having  conferred  various  important  benefits 
on  his  diocese,  he  died  on  the  7th  of  March,  1755,  leaving  one 
son,  the  ofispring  of  a  very  early  mairiage.  Besides  the  pub- 
lications already  mentioned,  he  printed  "  A  Short  History  of 
the  Isle  of  Man ;"  several  sermons  on  practical  subjects  ;  and 
a  few  religious  tracts.  At  a  late  period  of  his  life,  a  translation 
of  the  Scriptures  into  Manx  was  commenced  under  his  auspices, 
which  his  successor,  Hildesly,  caused  to  be  completed.  He  was 
a  man  of  respectable  scientific  and  classical  attainments  ;  par- 
ticularly tolerant :  indefatigable  in  the  performance  of  his  duties 
as  a  prelate,  and  a  most  zealous  friend  to  the  labouring  classes. 
Having,  on  one  occasion,  ordered  a  cloak  with  a  single  loop  and 
button,  his  tailor  remarked,  that  if  such  a  fashion  should  pre- 
vail, the  poor  bufcton-makers  would  starve.  "Indeed!"  ex- 
claimed the  bishop,  ^  then  button  it  all  over."  His  charities, 
it  is  said,  were  dispensed  judiciously,  and  in  the  true  spirit  of 
Christian  benevolence.  He  once  gave  a  friend  directions  to 
present  £50  to  a  poor  sick  clergyman,  who  had  a  large  family, 
in  the  most  delicate  manner  possible,  and  with  an  intimation, 


THOMAS  WILSON.  629 

that  the  donor  had  no  wish  to  be  known.  "  I  will  wait  upon 
him  early  to-morrow  morning,"  said  the  gentleman.  "  You  will 
oblige  me,"  replied  the  bishop,  "by  carrying  the  money  to  him 
directly.  Think,  sir,  of  what  importance  a  good  night's  rest 
may  be  to  this  poor  man."  Although  he  always  declined  taking 
his  seat  in  the  House  of  Lords,  because,  as  he  said,  Christ's  king- 
dom not  being  of  this-  world,  he  thought  the  church  should  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  state,  yet,  while  in  London,  prosecuting 
his  appeal,  he  appeared  on  several  occasions  at  court ;  and  it  is 
related  that,  one  day.  Queen  Caroline,  perceiving  him  approach, 
thus  complimented  him,  at  the  expense  of  several  prelates  who 
were  then  in  her  majesty's  presence : — "  Here,  my  lords,  is  a 
bishop,  whose  object  is  not  translation,  and  who  will  not  part 
with  his  spouse  because  she  is  poor," 


firJO  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CIIPtlSTIANS. 


ROBERT    ROBINSON. 


-^^^ 


OBERT,  the  son  of  Michael  Robinson,  an  ex- 
ciseman of  indifferent  character,  was  born  at 
Swaffham,  in  the  county  of  Norfolk,  on  the 
8th  of  June,  1735.  His  mother,  the  daughter  of 
a  respectable  gentleman,  who,  though  incensed 
by  her  marriage,  afforded  her  occasional  assist- 
ance, states  that  at  seven  years  of  age  he  was 
a  pretty  scholar,  and  had  been  at  a  Latin 
school  a  year  and  a  half."  "  His  master,"  she 
adds  "  was  very  fond  of  him,  and  used  to  say  that 
he  never  knew  a  child  that  discovered  so  much 
capacity."  At  this  period  he  was  removed  to  a 
grammar  school  at  Seaming,  under  the  superinten- 
dence of  a  clergyman  named  Brett. 
His  mother  now  entirely  lost  the  aid  of  her  father, 
on  account  of  the  profligacy  of  her  husband,  who,  be- 
coming much  involved,  fled,  with  a  view  to  avoid  his  creditors, 
from  Scarning  to  Winchester,  where  he  soon  afterwards  died. 
His  widow,  though  much  distressed,  contrived,  out  of  the  pro- 
ceeds of  a  small  lodging-house  and  her  earnings  as  a  needle- 
woman, to  keep  her  son  at  the  grammar-school ;  where,  at  the 
age  of  thirteen,  he  is  said  to  have  acquired  a  very  respectable 
knowledge  of  the  classics.  He  had  also  become  tolerably  con- 
versant with  French,  in  studying  which  he  had  the  advantage 
of  frequent  intercourse  with  the  French  usher  of  the  grammar- 
school,  who  lodged  at  his  mother's  house.  This  excellent  woman 
a{)pears  for  some  time  to  have  entertained  a  hope  that  he  would 
have  been  sent  to  college  by  her  fatlier  ;  who,  however,  died 
without  making  any  provision  either  for  his  grandson  or  herself. 
His  master  then  endeavoured  to  procure  him  a  situation,  but 
failed,  it  is  suspected,  on  account  of  the  youth's  ignorance  of 
arithmetic.      Under    these   circumstances,   Mrs.    Robinson   was 


ROBERT   ROBINSON.  631 

glad  to  accept  of  an  offer,  made  by  a  hair-dresser,  named  An- 
derson, residing  in  Crutched  Friars,  the  brother  of  one  of  her 
female  friends,  to  receive  him  as  an  apprentice  without  a  pre- 
mium. She  accompanied  him  to  London,  early  in  March,  1749, 
and  contrived  to  support  herself  and  provide  him  with  clothes, 
by  labouring  with  great  assiduity  at  needle-work. 

At  this  period  he  began  to  keep  a  diary,  in  which  he  record- 
ed the  most  minute  circumstances  that  occurred  to  him.  By 
this  we  learn,  that,  although  his  master  denied  him  the  use  of  a 
candle,  he  constantly  rose  between  four  and  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning  ;  diligently  studied  the  Scriptures  ;  and  took  great  de- 
light  in  attending  the  pulpits  of  celebrated  divines  of  all  denomi- 
nations. To  Whitefield,  whom  he  termed  "his  spiritual  father," 
he  wrote  several  letters,  which,  according  to  his  biographer. 
Dyer,  breathe  the  genuine  spirit  of  a  dutiful  son,  and  the  self- 
abasing  language  of  a  sincere  Calvinist.  One  or  two  of  these 
epistles  were  accidentally  read  in  his  presence,  by  Whitefield,  a 
circumstance  which  appears  to  have  afforded  him  the  most  in- 
tense delight. 

Religious  subjects  at  length  engrossed  nearly  the  whole  of 
his  attention,  and  he  be^aii  to  entertain  thoughts  of  devotino; 
himself  to  the  diffusion  of  the  gospel.  At  this  time  he  was  in 
the  habit  of  preaching,  alone,  in  his  own  room,  a  practice  to 
which  has  been  attributed  his  subsequent  "  facility  in  colloquial 
address."  His  master,  hj  whom  he  appears  to  have  been  great- 
ly beloved,  having  consented  to  cancel  his  indentures,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  Mildenhall,  in  Norfolk,  where,  at  the  age  of  twenty, 
he  delivered  his  first  discourse  before  a  small  congregation  of 
Methodists,  from  Job  ix.  2.  The  innocence  of  his  youth, 
the  agreeableness  of  his  manners,  and  the  enthusiasm  of  hi? 
genius,  says  Dyer,  all  conspired  to  render  him  popular  :  and, 
in  a  short  tune,  he  received  an  invitation  to  preach  at  the  Ta- 
bernacle, in  the  city  of  Norwich ;  where  he  continued  to  officiate, 
until  the  immorality  of  one  of  its  ministers  induced  him  to  se- 
cede from  the  society,  with  thirteen  of  its  members. 

He  now  became  pastor  of  a  small  congregation  in  St.  Paul's, 
Norwich ;  and,  according  to  the  practice  of  the  Independeni 
churches,  drew  up  his  confession  of  faith,  which  comprehended 
the  various  points  of  doctrine  supported  by  the  Calvinistic  Me- 
thodists.    This  solemn    avowal  of  his   adherence  to  dissenting 


632  LIVES   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

tenets,  it  is  said,  deprived  him  of  the  regard  of  an  opulent  re- 
lative, who  had  previously  intended  to  have  bequeathed  him  a 
considerable  legacy. 

In  1759.  he  married  a  farmer's  daughter,  named  Ellen  Payne. 
On  the  8th  of  July,  in  the  same  year,  he  preached  for  the  first 
time  at  Cambridge,  (which  subsequent!}^  became  the  scene  of  his 
most  brilliant  efforts,)  from  Corinthians  xv.  3  ;  and  in  1761, 
he  accepted  an  invitation  to  become  pastor  of  a  small  congrega- 
tion there  ;  the  members  of  which  could  scarcely  afford  him  £20 
per  annum.  His  ministry  was,  however,  so  successful,  tliat,  in 
the  course  of  a  few  years,  the  society  included  above  two  hun- 
dred highly  respectable  families ;  and  a  commodious  place  of 
worship  was  erected  for  him  at  their  expense.  The  younger 
collegians  are  said  to  have  frequently  attended  his  chapel  for 
the  purpose  of  ridiculing  him;  until,  at  length,  two  of  them  were 
prosecuted  for  their  indecorous  conduct,  and  one  of  them  was 
compelled  to  insert  an  apology  in  the  papers ;  the  other  being 
excused  on  account  of  his  previous  good  character.  The  senior 
members  of  the  university  appear,  however,  to  have  formed  a 
just  estimate  of  his  merits ;  they  not  only  treated  him  with 
marked  respect,  but  allowed  him  free  access  to  the  libraries,  and 
even  granted  him  the  uncommon  pi'ivilege  of  taking  books  away 
with  him  to  peruse  at  his  own  residence. 

In  1773,  his  salary,  though  much  increased,  being  still  in- 
adequate to  the  support  of  his  already  numerous  family,  he  took 
a  small  copyhold  estate,  which,  with  assistance,  he  was  subse- 
quently enabled  to  purchase,  at  Chesterton,  near  Cambridge ; 
where,  with  a  view  to  better  his  circumstances,  he  engaged  in 
business  as  a  farmer,  a  corn-dealer,  and  a  coal-merchant.  At 
the  same  time,  but  without  diminishing  his  exertions  as  a  divine, 
he  began  to  distinguish  himself  as  an  author.  In  1774,  he  pub- 
lished a  work,  for  which  he  received  twenty  guineas,  entitled 
"  Arcana  ;  or.  The  Principles  of  the  late  Petitioners  to  Parlia- 
ment, for  Relief  in  the  matter  of  Subscription."  In  this  produc- 
tion, which  materially  advanced  his  reputation  among  the  dis- 
senters, he  is  said  to  have  displayed  great  penetration,  lively 
reasoning,  and  a  happy  facility  for  simplifying  and  illustrating 
his  subject.  He  had  previously  (in  1770)  printed,  by  way  of 
specimen,  two  sermons  from  the  French  of  Saurin,  and  these 
being  favourably  received,  he  published  a  volume,  translated 


ROBERT   ROBINSON.  633 

from  the  works  of  that  celebrated  preacher,  in  1775  ;  which 
was  followed,  at  intervals,  bj  four  others,  including  an  able  prefa- 
tory dissertation  on  the  "  Reformation  in  France  ;"  <'  Memoirs 
of  Saurin ;"  and  "  Reflections  on  Deism,  Christian  Liberty, 
Human  Explication  of  a  Divine  Revelation,"  &c.  &c. 

Contemporary  with  the  first  volume  of  his  translations  from 
the  eminent  French  divine,  appeared  his  curious  treatise,  ap- 
pended to  "  The  Legal  Degrees  of  Marriage  Stated  and  Con- 
sidered," by  John  Alleyne,  barrister-at-law,  in  which  he  main- 
tained that  it  was  lawful  for  a  man  to  marry  his  wife's  sister. 
In  1776,  he  produced  "  A  Plea  for  the  Divinity  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,"  in  reply  to  Lindsey's  "Apology  "  for  resigning  his 
vicarage  of  Catterick,  and  to  Jebb's  "  Short  State  of  Reasons" 
for  abandoning  his  benefice,  a  work  of  great  ability,  for  which 
he  was  honoured  with  the  thanks  and  compliments  of  Bishops 
Hinchcliffe  and  Halifax,  Dean  Tucker,  and  other  eminent  church- 
men. In  the  following  year,  he  printed  a  tract,  entitled,  "  The 
History  and  Mystery  of  Good  Friday  ;"  in  which  it  is  observed, 
he  attacked  with  great  learning,  and  still  more  point  and  hum- 
our, the  folly  of  those  religionists  who  observe  festival  days. 
Shortly  afterwards,  he  supplied  Kippis  with  materials  for  the 
life  of  Baker,  the  antiquary,  to  be  inserted  in  the  "  Biographia 
Britannica  ;"  and  in  1778,  he  produced  "  A  Plan  of  Lectures 
on  the  Principles  of  Non-Conformity,"  containing  outlines  of 
the  entire  differences  between  the  Church  of  England  and  the 
dissenters  ;  the  object  of  which  was  to  confirm  the  latter  in 
their  principles,  and  to  furnish  them  with  reasons  for  se- 
cession. This  work  obtained  the  commendation  of  Lord  Shel- 
burne,  in  the  House  of  Peers,  and  was  ably  defended  by  Fox, 
against  an  attack  that  had  been  made  on  it  by  Burke,  during  a 
debate  in  the  Commons,  on  the  test  and  corporation  acts.  About 
the  same  time,  he  produced  a  translation  of  Claude's  celebrated 
Essays  on  the  "  Composition  of  a  Sermon,"  in  two  volumes, 
octavo,  with  notes ;  which  he  afterwards  more  extensively  illus- 
trated by  curious  and  often  humorous  anecdotes,  sensible  reflec- 
tions on  the  beauties,  and  caustic  observations  on  the  defects, 
perceptible  in  the  discourses  of  many  celebrated  modern  preach- 
ers.    For  this  work  he  is  said  to  have  received  ^£400. 

In  1780,  he  visited  Oxford,  and  proceeded  thence  to  Scotland, 
where  he  was  ofi'ered  a  diploma  of  D.  D.,  which  he  modestly 
80 


634  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

declined.  In  the  following  year,  with  the  view  to  produce  a 
more  charitable  spiiit  among  his  brethren,  the  Baptists,  he  pub- 
lished ''  The  General  Doctrine  of  Toleration  applied  to  the  par- 
ticular case  of  Free  Communion."  About  this  period  he  formed 
a  design  of  founding  a  Baptist  college  ;  which,  however,  he  was 
compelled  to  abandon,  but  succeeded  in  establishing  a  society  at 
Cambridge,  for  the  relief  of  dissenting  ministers,  their  widows 
and  children.  In  1782,  he  was  solicited,  by  a  society  of  Baptists, 
to  undertake  a  complete  and  authentic  history  of  their  sect,  for 
which  he  began  forthwith  to  collect  materials.  Shortly  after- 
wards, he  was  eminently  instrumental  in  the  establishment  of  a  so- 
ciety at  Cambridge,  for  the  promotion  of  constitutional  informa 
tion,  to  advance  which,  he  published,  "A  Political  Catechism,"" 
familiarly  expounding  the  principles  of  civil  government.  For 
this  production,  he  is  said  to  have  received  only  twenty  guineas. 

In  1784,  he  published  "  Sixteen  Discourses,"  which  he  had 
delivered  extempore  to  illiterate  congregations  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Cambridge :  these  with  *<  Six  Morning  Exercises," 
chiefly  on  practical  subjects,  evinced  so  much  liberality  on  doc- 
trinal points,  that  "  he  was  furiously  preached  against  as  an 
Arian  and  Socinian ;"  and  being  no  longer  regarded  as  a  sin- 
cere Calvinist,  he  lost  much  of  that  popularity  which  he  had 
previously  enjo^^ed.  In  the  summer  of  the  same  year,  he  was 
visited  by  a  distinguished  American  ;  who,  as  he  says,  "  came 
on  Saturday  evening, — spent  the  Lord's  day  with  u&, — departed 
on  Monday  afternoon,  and  left  me  the  choice  of  the  cabin  of  the 
Washington,  and  as  much  land  in  the  States  as  I  would  wish  to 
accept.  Happiest  of  countries  !  Peace  and  prosperity  attend 
you  !  I  shall  never  see  you ;  but  if  I  forget  the  ability  and  vir- 
tue that  struggled  to  obtain,  and  actually  did  obtain,  all  that 
mankind  hold  dear,  let  my  right  hand  forget  her  cunning  !" 

For  the  purpose  of  opening  new  mines  of  information,  and 
thereby  increasing  his  utility,  he  now  began  to  study  the  Span- 
ish, Portuguese,  Italian,  and  German  languages ;  but  the 
strength  of  his  body  was  no  longer  capable  of  sustaining  tlie 
energy  of  his  mind  ;  a  constitutional  decay,  attended  by  a  la- 
mentable depression  of  spirits,  was  the  consequence  of  his  men- 
tal exertions;  and,  at  length,  he  became  so  reduced  that  his 
family,  trusting  that  the  journey  might  restore  him  to  health, 
encouraged  a  desire  which  he  had  long  entertained,  of  paying  a 


ROBERT   ROBINSON.  635 

t'isit  to  the  celebrated  Priestley.  He  accordingly  set  out  for 
Birmingham,  on  the  2d  of  June,  1790,  and  preached  two  ser- 
mons there  on  the  following  Sunday.  Two  days  afterwards  he 
spent  a  social  evening  with  a  few  friends,  and  retired  to  rest,  in 
as  good  health  as  he  had  been  for  some  time  past.  He  was, 
however,  found  dead  in  his  bed  the  next  morning,  having,  ap- 
parently, departed  this  life,  as  he  had  often  wished  that  he 
should  do,  suddenly,  and  alone.  This  event  took  place  on  the 
8th  of  June,  1790,  in  the  fifty-fifth  year  of  his  age,  in  the  house 
of  a  Mr.  Russel,  the  friend  of  Dr.  Priestle}^,  at  Showel  Green, 
near  Birmingham. 

In  the  same  pulpit  from  which,  only  a  week  before,  this  emi- 
nent pastor  had  addressed  a  numerous  and  admiring  congrega- 
tion, his  funeral  sermon  was  preached  by  Dr.  Priestley,  who  de- 
scribed him  as  «« one  whose  benign  disposition  and  gentle  man- 
ners had  entitled  him  to  the  character  of  an  amiable  man  ;  whose 
genius,  whose  learning,  whose  steady  opposition  to  every  species 
of  tyranny,  as  well  among  Protestant  dissenters  as  established 
hierarchies,  had  entitled  him  to  the  character  of  a  great  man." 

In  a  discourse  delivered  elsewhere,  on  the  same  occasion,  Dr. 
Bees  said  of  him : — "  When  he  was  in  his  prime,  he  used,  with- 
out any  art  or  ostentation  of  oratory  perfectly  to  command  the 
attention  of  his  audience  ;  and  always  speaking  extempore,  he 
would  vary  his  style  and  address  according  to  his  hearers,  in  a 
manner  that  was  truly  wonderful.  His  WTitings  discover  equal 
powers  of  imagination  and  of  judgment.  His  sermons,  preach- 
ed in  the  villages  near  Cambridge,  are  remarkable  for  their 
plainness  and  their  propriety.  But  at  the  time  they  were  com- 
posed, he  had  not  acquired  all  the  sentiments  that  he  did  before 
he  died."  To  illustrate  the  last  observation,  it  is  necessary  to 
state,  that  some  time  before  his  decease,  he  had  embraced  the 
Unitarian  doctrines  of  Priestley  with  regard  to  the  divinity  of 
Christ.  Dr.  Rees  observes  that  towards  the  close  of  his  career, 
»'  his  discourse  was  unconnected  and  desultory  ;  and  his  manner 
of  treating  the  Trinity  savoured  rather  of  burlesque  than  of 
serious  reasoning."  At  this  period  he  is  described  as  having 
attacked  orthodox  opinions  with  extraordinary  poignancy  and 
sarcasm ;  although  he  had  previously,  on  account  of  his  "  Plea 
for  the  Divinity  of  Christ,"  been  very  much  caressed  by  the 
friends  of  the  established  church.     "  On  this  account,"  says 


636  LIVES   OP  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

Priestley,  '<  I  believe  it  was,  that  lie  had  the  offer  of  consider- 
able preferment  in  the  Church  of  England  ;  which,  with  great 
magnanimity,  he  rejected." 

<'  His  good  sense  and  generous  spirit,**  says  Dr.  Toulmin^. 
<*  would  not  suffer  him  to  go  into  the  trammels  of  any  party. 
Religious  liberty,  if  I  may  be  alloAved  the  expression,  was  his 
idol."  A  writer  in  the  Scotch  Encyclopaedia,  after  allowing 
his  great  abilities  as  a  writer  and  pastor,  adds,  ''  He  appears  to 
have  been  of  an  unsteady  temper  ;  and,  in  our  opinion,  acquirer 
but  little  credit  from  the  frequency  with  which  he  changed  his 
religious  creed,  for  we  have  reason  to  believe  he  died  a  Socinian." 

He  did  not  live  to  complete  his  "  History  of  the  Baptists ;" 
one  part  of  which  appeared  in  1790,  and  his  collections  for  the 
remainder,  in  1792,  under  the  title  of  "Ecclesiastical  Re- 
searches." In  addition  to  these,  and  his  other  literary  labours 
already  noticed,  he  appears  to  have  published  some  theological 
translations,  a  discourse  on  "Proper  Behaviour  at  Relative 
Assemblies ;"  "  Slavery  inconsistent  with  the  Principles  of 
Christianity;"  "Early  Piety  to  Young  Persons,"  and  other 
minor  pieces  on  religious  euhje<»+^« 


DANIEL  NEAL.  63T 


DANIEL  NEAL. 

EAL,  the  historian  of  the  Puritans,  was  born 
in  London,  on  the  14th  of  December,  1678-9. 
Becoming  an  orphan  at  an  early  age,  the  care 
of  his  education  devolved  upon  his  uncle  ;  who,, 
about  the  year  1686,  placed  him  at  Merchant 
Tailors'  school ;  whence,  after  refusing  an  ex- 
hibition, to  St  John's  College,  Cambridge,  he  re- 
moved to  Mr.  Kowe's  academy  for  young  men 
who  intended  to  become  dissenting  ministers. 
He  subsequently  studied  at  the  universities  of 
Utrecht  and  Leyden,  under  Burman  and  Greevius. 
In  1706,  he  was  appointed  pastor  of  a  congregation- 
in  Aldersgate-  street  ;  whence,  on  account  of  the  in- 
crease of  his  flock,  he  subsequently  removed  to  a 
more  commodious  building  in  Jewin  street.  Notwith- 
standing his  indefatigable  exertions  as  a  preacher,  he 
found  leisure  to  become  a  voluminous  author.  In  1720,  he 
published  "  A  History  of  New  England,"  in  two  volumes,  octavo; 
and,  in  the  following  year,  the  university  of  Cambridge,  in  Ame- 
rica, conferred  on  him  the  degree  of  M.  A.  In  1722,  appeared 
his  "  Letter  to  Dr.  Francis  Hare,  Bishop  of  Chichester,"  in 
reply  to  some  remarks  which  that  prelate  had  made  on  the  dis- 
senters, in  a  visitation  sermon.  In  1732,  he  produced  the  first 
part  of  his  '<  History  of  the  Puritans  ;"  the  second,  third,  and 
fourth  volumes  of  which  appeared,  respectively,  in  1733,  1736, 
and  1738.  Warburton,  on  finding  this  work,  which  is  highly 
honourable  to  the  abilities  of  its  author,  in  the  library  at  Dur- 
ham, without  a  reply,  determined  on  answering  it  himself. 
He  says,  '<  I  took  it  home  to  my  house,  and,  at  breakfast  time, 
filled  the  margins  quite  through  ;  which  I  think  to  be  a  full 
confutation  of  all  his  false  facts  and  partial  representations." 
The  notes  which  Warburton  made  on  this  occasion,  were  subse- 

3  H 


;(J38  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

quentlj  printed  in  a  volume,  entitled,  "  Tracts  by  Warburton 
and  a  Warburtonian."  Neal's  History  was  also  attacked  by 
Bishop  Maddox,  to  whom  he  published  a  reply  ;  and  by  Dr. 
Zachary  Grey,  whose  objections  were  answered  by  Dr.  Toulmin, 
in  a  new  edition  of  the  work,  which  appeared  in  1797.  In  1740, 
Neal  delivered  a  course  of  lectures,  ii:  support  of  the  reformed 
religion,  against  Popery,  which,  it  is  said,  "  crowds  of  persons 
eagerly  attended."  About  the  year  1738,  his  health  began  to 
decline,  and,  after  having  suffered  much  from  paralytic  attacks, 
he  died  at  Bath,  on  the  4th  of  April,  1743,  leaving  a  son  by  his 
•wife,  who  was  a  sister  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Lardner.  Besides 
the  productions  already  mentioned,  Neal  published  "A  Narra- 
tive of  the  Method  and  Success  of  Inoculating  for  the  Small 
Pox,  in  New  England  ;"  which  led  to  an  interview  between  him 
and  the  Princess  Caroline  of  Wales ;  who,  notwithstanding  the 
violent  prejudices  then  entertained  against  the  practice,  shortly 
afterwards  caused  her  children  to  be  inoculated.  He  was  be- 
loved by  his  family  and  friends,  revered  by  his  congregation, 
and  admired  by  the  whole  of  his  sect;  although  he  appears  to 
have  given  some  temporary  offence,  by  withdrawing  from  those 
who  subscribed  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  in  which,  however, 
he  is  said  to  have  fully  believed.  His  disposition  was  particu- 
larly mild,  and  his  aversion  to  any  appearance  of  bigotry  so 
great,  that  he  repelled  no  denomination  of  Christians  from  his 
communion. 


LEGH   RICHMOND. 


63» 


LEGH   RICHMOND. 


AS  born  at  Liverpool,  on  the  29th  of  January, 
1772.  He  received  an  injury,  during  his 
childhood,  by  leaping  from  a  wall,  which 
lamed  him  for  the  remainder  of  his  life.  Af- 
ter having  laid  the  foundation  of  a  classical 
education,  he  proceeded  to  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge,  where  a  severe  illness,  produced 
by  intense  application,  materially  retarded  his 
academical  progress.  He  graduated,  by  JEgro- 
tat,  in  1794,  and  proceeded  to  the  degree  of  M. 
in  1797  ;  during  which  year  he  married,  took 
icon's  orders,  and  commenced  his  pastoral  duties 
curate  in  the  Isle  of  Wight.  He  subsequently 
officiated,  for  some  time,  at  Lock  Chapel,  in  the  me- 
y\-\  tropolis  ;  and,  in  1805,  obtained  the  rectory  of  Turvey, 
in  Bedfordshire,  where  he  died,  on  the  8th  of  May,  1827. 
Besides  a  work,  entitled,  "The  Fathers  of  the  Church,"  he 
wrote  a  number  of  narrative  pieces,  in  support  of  religiou,  seve- 
ral of  which,  (including  "The  Dairyman's  Daughter,"  "The 
Young  Cottager,"  "  The  Negro  Servant,"  &c.)  after  having 
been  printed  separately,  were  collected  and  published  in  one 
volume,  entitled,  "  Annals  of  the  Poor."  Some  of  these  simple 
and  unpretending  compositions,  which  procured  for  their  ami- 
able author  a  large  share  of  public  esteem,  as  well  as  the  friend- 
ship of  many  pious  and  learned  individuals,  have  been  translated 
into  more  than  twenty  foreign  languages,  and  millions  of  copies 
of  them  have  been  circulated.  He  preached  extemporaneously, 
and  without  much  preparation.  "Why,"  said  he,  "need  I  la- 
bour, when  our  simple  villagers  are  far  more  usefully  instructed, 
in   my  plain,  easy,  familiar   manner  ?     The   only  result  would 


be,  that  I  should  address  tl 
hension." 


lem  in  a 


style  beyond  their  compre- 


640 


LIVES  OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JAMES   MONTGOMERY. 


AMES  MONTGOMERY,  the  eldest  son  of 
a,  Moravian  minister,  was  born  on  the  4th  of 
November,  1771,  at  Irvine,  in  Ayrshire, 
Scotland.  At  an  early  age,  he  was  placed 
by  his  parents,  (previous  to  their  departure 
for  the  West  Indies,  where  both  of  them  died,) 
at  a  Moravian  seminary,  at  Fulnick,  in  York- 
ire.  Here  he  remained  ten  years ;  and,  not- 
thstanding  the  confined  mode  of  education  pur- 
there,  continued  to  make  considerable  literary 
ess,  independently  of  his  scholastic  studies, 
the  time  he  was  twelve  years  old,  his  ideas  on 
r  had  so  expanded,  that  he  had  filled  two  volumes 
erses ;  and,  in  two  years  afterwards,  he  added  a 
eroic  poem,  in  three  books,  in  imitation  of 
Homer's  Frogs  and  Mice.  Encouraged  by  the  appro- 
bation with  which  these  efforts  were  received  by  his  immediate 
friends,  lie  attempted  but  ultimately  laid  aside,  two  epic  poems, 
which,  liowever,  displayed  no  ordinary  genius.  The  conductors 
of  the  Fuhiick  Academy,  finding  him  averse  to  become  one  of 
their  miiiistryf  placed  him  with  a  retail  shopkeeper  at  Mirfield, 
in  Yorkshire;  but,  disgusted  with  his  occupation,  he  quitted  it 
at  the  end  of  a  year,  and  set  out,  with  three  shillings  and  six- 
pence in  his  pocket,  "  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  to  begin  the  world." 
His  project  was  to  proceed  at  once  to  London ;  but  he  found 
the  world,  as  he  proceeded,  very  unlike  what  he  had  figured  tc 
himself,  in  his  fervid  moments  at  Fulnick.  It  was  in  the  me- 
tropolis, says  a  writer  in  "The  Monthly  Magazine,"  that  "his 
heated  imagination  had  depicted  the  honours  and  riches  that 
awaited  him,"  were  to  be  found;  but  to  go  there  was  impossible; 
and,  on  the  fourth  day,  he  engaged  himself  in  a  situation  similar 
to  that  which  he  had  left,  at  Wash,  near  Rotterham.      He  re- 


JAMES   MONTGOMERY.  C4l 

mained  but  a  twelvemonth  in  this  situation,  still  cherishing  the 
idea  of  metropolitan  fame;  and,  as  a  step  to  which,  he  had  sent 
a  manuscript  volume  of  his  poems  to  Mr.  Harrison,  a  bookseller 
in  Paternoster  Row,  who,  upon  the  arrival  of  our  youthful  auth  n 
in  London,  took  him  into  his  shop,  but  declined  to  publish 
his  poems. 

After  a  quarrel  with  Mr.  Harrison,  and  a  vain  attempt  to 
procure  the  publication  of  an  Eastern  Tale,  he  returned  to  his 
former  employment  in  Yorkshire;  but,  in  1792,  still  yearning 
after  literary  fame,  he  engaged  himself  to  Mr.  Gales,  a  book- 
seller, at  Sheffield,  and  the  publisher  of  a  newspaper,  called 
<'The  Sheffield  Register."  In  this  he  occasionally  wrote ;  and, 
in  1784,  on  the  flight  of  Mr.  Gales  from  England,  to  avoid  a 
prosecution,  our  author  undertook  the  editorship  and  publication 
of  the  paper,  the  name  of  which  he  changed  to  "The  Iris." 
Thouo:h  he  observed  a  greater  deo;ree  of  moderation  in  politics 
than  had  been  used  by  the  former  editor,  the  paper  was  stil] 
obnoxious  enough  to  government  to  involve  its  proprietor  in  a 
prosecution.  This  was  for  the  printing  of  a  song  in  commemo- 
ration of  the  destruction  of  the  Bastile,  which  had  appeared  in 
<' The  Sheffield  Register"  a  year  ago,  but  had  been  recently 
circulated  by  a  hawker,  at  whose  anxious  request  our  author 
had  reluctantly  struck  oil  a  few  copies.  He  was  accordingly 
tried  for  a  libel  in  January,  1795;  and,  on  conviction,  sentenced 
to  a  fine  of  £20,  and  three  months'  imprisonment  in  York  Castle. 

On  resuming  his  editorial  duties,  he  abstained,  as  much  as 
possible,  from  politics;  but  he  had  not  been  long  liberated, 
before  he  was  again  prosecuted  for  a  libel  on  a  magistrate  of 
Sheffield,  in  his  account  of  a  riot  which  had  taken  place  in  the 
town.  He  was  sentenced  to  pay  a  fine  of  £dO,  and  to  be  im- 
prisoned for  six  months ;  but,  after  his  release,  it  is  said  his 
prosecutor  took  every  opportunity  of  showing  him  respect  in 
public,  and  to  advance  his  interest.  In  the  spring  of  1797,  he 
printed  his  Prison  Amusements,  the  production  of  his  pen  during 
his  recent  confinement ;  and,  on  the  establishment  of  "  The  Poeti- 
cal Register,"  he  contributed  to  the  first  volume  his  "Battle  of 
Alexandria,"  and  other  poems.  In  1805,  he  published  "The 
Ocean  ;"  and,  in  the  following  year,  "The  Wanderer  of  SAvitzer- 
land,"  and  other  poems,  which,  in  spite  of  a  most  illiberal  criti- 
vasUl  in  "The  Edinburgh  Review,"  rose  into  popularity,  and  com- 
81  3  h2 


042  LIVES   OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS. 

pletelj  established  the  reputation  of  the  author  as  a  poet.  In 
1809,  appeared,  in  quarto,  his  poem  of  '<  The  West  Indies,"  a 
second  edition  of  which  appeared,  in  octavo,  in  1810,  and  ten 
thousand  copies  are  said  to  have  been  since  circuhited.  In 
1812,  appeared  his  "  World  before  the  Flood,"  and  other  poems, 
of  which  a  writer  in  "  The  Monthly  Magazine  "  has  justly  said, 
that  "  no  man  of  taste  or  feeling  can  possibly  read  it,  without 
wishing  to  make  others  participate  in  the  pleasure  he  has  derived 
from  it."  Besides  the  works  already  noticed,  and  upon  which 
his  fame,  as  apoet,  principally  rests,  he  has  published  "  Thoughts 
on  Wheels  ;"  "  Greenland,"  and  other  poems  ;  "  Polyhymnia," 
*•  Songs  to  Foreign  Music  ;"  and  "Songs  of  Zion,"  being  imita- 
tions of  the  Psalms ;  and,  in  1828,  appeared  his  "  Pelican 
Island,"  and  other  poem.s. 

In  person,  Mr,  Montgomery  is  described  as  rather  below  the 
middle  stature ;  slightly  formed,  but  well  proportioned,  with  fair 
complexion,  yellow  hair,  and  a  countenance  having  a  melan- 
choly but  interesting  expression.  His  modesty  and  reserve 
keep  him  silent  among  strangers ;  but  he  is  said,  by  his  familiar 
acquaintance,  to  possess  colloquial  powers  of  a  first-rate  order. 
Like  his  prototype,  CoAvper,  he  entertains  an  overpow^ering 
sense  of  his  religious  obligations ;  and  exhibits,  occasionally,  a 
melancholy  gloom,  which  enchains  his  vigorous  and  elastic 
fancy,  and  arrests  the  progress  of  his  playful  pen. 

Mr.  Montgomery  is  one  of  the  poets  of  the  present  day,  who, 
though  not  of  the  highest  class,  will  hereafter  take  his  place  in 
a  rank  superior  to  that  which  he  now  occupies  in  the  eye  of  the 
public.  He  has,  however,  already  enjoyed  more  than  an  ordi- 
nary share  of  reputation,  and  the  gratification  of  seeing  some 
of  his  minor  poems  adopted  as  standard  quotations  in  reference 
to  certain  subjects,  both  for  their  moral  and  poetical  beauty. 

Mr.  Montgomery  has  written  many  interesting  notes  and 
memoirs  which  furnish  valuable  information  concerning  his 
youthful  struggles  for  literary  fame,  and  the  circumstances  under 
which  some  of  his  poems  were  written.  Of  his  '<  Prison  Amuse- 
ments ''  he  says,  '« These  pieces  were  compose4  in  bitter  moments, 
amid  the  horrors  of  a  jail,  under  the  pressure  of  sickness.  They 
were  the  transcripts  of  melancholy  feelings — the  warm  effusions 
of  a  bleeding  heart.  The  writer  amused  his  imagination  with 
attiring  his  sorrows  in  verse,  that  under  the  romantic  appearanc 


JAMES   MONTGOMERY.  64.S 

of  fiction  he  might  sometimes  forget  that  his  misfortunes  were 
real."  His  thirst  after  literary,  and  especially  poetic  fame, 
was  so  great  as  to  border  on  something  even  wilder  than  enthu- 
siasm. To  gratify  it,  he  abandoned  flattering  prospects,  dis- 
solved many  valuable  connections,  and  shunned  the  society  of 
near  and  dear  friends.  For  a  while  he  lived  absolutely  useless. 
"I  was  nearly  as  ignorant  of  the  world,"  he  says  of  his  life  at 
Fulneck,  *'  and  its  every-day  concerns  as  the  gold  fishes  swim- 
ming about  in  the  glass  globe  on  the  pedestal  before  us  are  of 
what  we  are  doing  around  them ;  and  when  I  took  the  rash  step 
of  running  into  the  vortex,  I  was  nearly  as  little  prepared 
for  the  business  of  general  life  as  they  would  be  to  take  a  part 
in  our  proceedings  were  they  to  leap  out  of  their  element." 
Experience  awakened  him  from  the  delusion  ;  he  learned  that 
the  world  was  not  that  enchanted  ground  of  which  his  fancy  had 
been  dreaming ;  and  he  became  lonely  and  disgusted,  among 
sights  and  operations  in  which  he  could  find  no  enjoyment.  A 
new  idea  came  over  him.  He  had  failed  while  Avriting  serious 
poetry ;  he  would  attempt  doggerel.  The  result  we  give  in  his 
own  words ;  and  it  may  serve  as  a  beacon  to  those,  who,  young 
and  talented  and  enthusiastic  of  learning  as  Montgomery  was, 
are  determined  to  seek  the  praises  of  men  rather  than  the  praise 
of  God.  "Effort  after  effort  failed.  A  providence  of  disap- 
pointment shut  every  door  in  my  face  by  which  I  attempted  to 
force  my  way  to  a  dishonourable  fame.  I  was  thus  happily 
saved  from  appearing  as  the  author  of  works  which  at  this  hour 
I  should  have  been  ashamed  to  acknowledge.  Disheartened  at 
length  with  ill  success,  I  gave  myself  up  to  indolence  and  apathy, 
and  lost  seven  years  of  that  part  of  my  youth  which  ought  to 
have  been  the  most  active  and  profitable,  in  alternate  listlessness 
and  despondency,  using  no  further  exertion  in  my  otfice  affairs, 
than  was  necessary  to  keep  up  my  credit  under  heavy  pecuniary 
obligations,  and  gradually  though  slowly  to  liquidate  them." 

It  is  to  the  honour  of  Mr.  Montgomery  as  a  scholar  and  a 
Christian  that  he  at  length  aroused  from  this  dangerous  apathy, 
and  began  writing  in  defence  of  virtue  and  religion.  From 
that  time  a  new  purpose  animated  him,  and  his  pen  as  well  as 
his  conduct  produced  new  fruits.  His  longer  pieces  abound  in 
lessons  of  morality,  and  in  arguments  in  defence  of  oppres:>ed 
humanity.      "The  ^Vanderer  of  Switzerland,"  is  consecrated  ti 


544  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

the  cause  of  freedom  and  oppressed  patriotism.  In  many  of 
his  principal  poems  he  breathes  that  longing  for  the  dawning 
over  the  world  of  a  better  dispensation,  the  thoughts  of  which 
were  so  much  in  conformity  to  his  disposition.  In  the  *'  West 
Indies,"  he  describes,  with  deep  fervour,  the  abolition  of  the 
African  slave-trade,  the  efforts  of  Clarkson,  Wilberforce,  and 
other  champions  in  that  cause,  and  the  prospective  introduction 
of  Christianity  among  the  negroes.  *'  The  World  before  the 
Flood  "  is  a  somewhat  singular  production,  originating  from  a 
passage  in  Milton  concerning  Enoch,  and  describing  the  prim- 
eval world  and  its  inhabitants.  The  subject  is  entirely  epic„ 
The  '*Sons  of  Cain,"  enemies  of  God  and  his  people,  make  an 
assault  upon  Eden,  and,  together  with  a  .race  of  giants,  make 
prisoners  of  the  believers  or  patriarchs,  the  children  >of  Shem. 
While  the  wicked  king  is  about  to  sacrifice  the  latter  to  his 
demon  gods,  Enoch,  suddenly  prophesies  his  overthrow  by  a  de- 
luge, and  is  translated  to  heaven.  His  garment  falls  upon  tho 
believers,  and  enables  them  to  escape.  The  giants  are  then 
destroyed  by  a  host  of  cherubims  from  heaven.  This  is  one  of 
Mr.  Montgomery's  most  popular  poems,  and  contains  many  fine 
and  tender  passages.  The  poem  on  "  Greenland,"  which  de- 
scribes the  discovery,  history,  and  appearance  of  that  island, 
and  its  colonization  by  Moravians,  has  also  enjoyed  much  popu- 
larity. The  "  Thoughts  on  Wheels  "  are  little  poems,  rather 
whimsical,  describing  the  different  purposes  to  which  the  wheel 
has  been  applied.  The  names — "  Combat,"  "  Inquisition," 
"  State  Lottery,"  "  Car  of  Juggernaut,"  &c.  will  suggest  the 
subject  of  each  poem.  The  "  Songs  of  Zion  "  are  an  imitation 
of  many  of  the  Hebrew  Psalms,  and  contain  many  hymns  not 
unworthy  the  worship  of  Jehovah,  by  the  heart  moved  to  holy 
joy.  Some  of  them  are  now  included  in  the  hymn  collections 
:)f  all  Christian  denominations,  and  bear  comparison  Avith  simi- 
lar productions  by  Watts,  Newton,  Doddridge  and  Heber. 

We  may  close  the  biography  of  Mr.  Montgomery  by  the 
following  quotation  from  the  Edinburgh  Review.  "  There  is 
Bomething  in  all  his  poetry  which  makes  fiction  the  most  im- 
pressive teacher  of  truth  and  wisdom,  and  by  which,  while  the 
intellect  is  gratified  and  the  imagination  roused,  the  heart,  if  it 
retains  any  sensibility  to  tender  or  elevating  emotions,  cannot 
fail  to  be  made  better." 


JANE  TAYLOK. 


645 


JANE   TAYLOR. 

N  the  23d  of  September,  1783,  Miss  Taylor 
'^  was  born  in  London.  She  was  the  daughter 
of  an  engraver,  who  also  acted  as  pastor  to  a 
dissenting  congregation  at  Colchester,  where 
the  subject  of  our  memoir  was  educated,  and 
learned  the  rudiments  of  her  father's  business. 
Her  poetical  talents,  which  she  developed  at 
a  very  early  age,  were  first  made  known  to  the 
public  in  a  work  called  ''  The  Miner's  Pocket 
Book,"  where  her  poem  of  "  The  Beggar  Boy  " 
appeared,  in  1804.  The  approbation  it  met  with 
encouraged  her  to  proceed,  and  she  produced,  in 
succession,  several  other  poems,  among  which  '«  Ori- 
^7^  ginal  Poems  for  Infant  Minds,"  and  "  Rhymes  for  the 
Nursery,"  in  both  of  which  she  was  assisted  by  her  sister, 
are  still  popular.  In  1815,  she  produced  a  work,  in  prose, 
entitled  "Display;"  which  was  shortly  afterwards  followed  by 
her  last  work,  entitled  "  Essays,  in  Rhyme,  on  Morals  and 
Manners;"  written  with  taste,  elegance,  and  feeling.  Having 
removed,  with  her  family,  to  Ongar,  in  1810,  she  died  there,  of 
a  pulmonary  complaint,  in  April,  1823.  Miss  Taylor's  works 
are  almost  all  composed  with  a  view  to  the  mental  and  moral 
improvement  of  youth,  and,  as  such,  are  deservedly  reckoned 
among  the  first  and  most  useful  of  their  class.  There  is  in  them 
that  simple  earnestness  and  that  appearance  of  every-day  life 
which  never  fail  to  fascinate  the  youthful  reader ;  while  her 
frequent  intermixture  of  the  quiet  rural  scenes  of  England,  with 
the  mental  condition  of  the  lower  classes,  caused  by  the  poverty 
and  oppression  which  they  experience  in  great  cities,  affords 
descriptions  which  leave  indelible  impressions  upon  the  mind, 
and  teach  in  the  most  effectual  manner  the  moral  which  it  is 
her  lim  to  convey. 


646 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


ELIZABETH   CAETER. 


LIZABETH  CARTER,  the  daughter  of  a  cler- 
gyman,  at  Deal,  in  Kent,  was  born  there  on 
the  16th  of  December,  1717,  and  was  educated 
by  her  father,  who  at  first,  from  the  slowness 
of  her  faculties,  despaired  of  her  progress  in 
intellectual  attainments.  She,  however,  pur- 
sued her  studies  with  such  perseverance,  that, 
in  a  short  time,  she  overcame  all  her  difficulties, 
nnd  became  mistress,  successively,  of  Latin, 
Greek,  French,  German,  Italian,  Spanish,  Por- 
tuguese, and  Hebrew.  As  early  as  1736,  some 
of  her  poems  had  appeared  in  "The  Gentleman's 
Magazine ;"  and,  in  1738,  a  quarto  pamphlet  of  her 
poetical  productions  was  published  by  Cave.  In  1739, 
be  gave  a  translation  of  "  The  Critique  of  Crousaz  on 
Pope's  Essay  on  Man,  and  of  Algarotti's  Explanation 
of  Newton's  Philosophy,  for  the  Use  of  the  Ladies,"  which  pro- 
cured her  a  high  reputation  among  the  literati,  both  at  home  and 
abroad.  About  1741,  she  became  acquainted  with  Miss 
Catherine  Talbot,  and  Seeker,  (afterwards  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury,) under  whose  encouragement  she  composed  her  cele- 
brate 1  translation  of  Epictetus,  which  appeared  in  quarto,  in 
1752.  It  was  published,  by  subscription,  at  the  price  of  one 
guinea,  and  is  said  to  have  produced  to  the  authoress  cfilOOO. 
Her  great  acquisitions  and  intellectual  powers  had  already  pro- 
cured for  her  the  friendship  and  admiration  of  some  of  the  most 
eminent  men  of  letters  of  the  day,  and,  in  1763,  she  accompanied 
Lord  Bath,  Mrs.  Montague,  and  Dr.  Douglas  (afterwards  Bishop 
of  Salisbury)  on  a  tour  to  Spa.  In  the  space  of  ten  years 
from  this  time,  she  lost,  succe-ssiveiy,  her  friends.  Lord  Bath 
Archbishop  Seeker,  Miss  Talbot,  and  her  father ;  having  ar 
4ved,  says  her  biographer,  " at  a  time  of  h^c,  uhcn  everj  y»ai 


ELIZABETH    CARTER.  ^47 

was  stealing  from  her  some  intimate  friend  or  dear  relation." 
In  1782,  at  the  request  of  Sir  William  Pulteney,  who  allowed  her 
an  annuity  of  £150  per  annum,  she  accompanied  his  daughter 
to  Paris ;  and,  in  1791,  she  had  the  honour,  by  her  majesty's 
express  desire,  of  an  interview  with  Queen  Charlotte.  She 
also,  subsequently,  received  visits  from  several  of  the  royal 
family,  and  continued  to  be  held  in  great  reputation,  long  after 
she  had  ceased  to  attract  public  notice  as  a  writer.  She  lived 
to  the  age  of  eightj^'-eight,  and  died,  highly  respected  and  es- 
teemed by  a  numerous  circle  of  friends,  on  the  19th  of  Feb- 
cuary,  1806.  In  1807,  were  published  "  Memoirs  of  her  Life, 
with  a  new  edition  of  her  poems,  &c.,  together  with  Notes  on 
the  Bible,  and  Answers  to  Objections  concerning  the  Christian 
Religion,  by  the  Rev.  Montague  Pennington  ;"  and,  in  1808, 
her  correspondence  with  Miss  Talbot  was  published,  in  two 
volumes,  octavo.  The  intellectual  qualities  of  Miss  Carter 
were  neither  dazzling  nor  commanding;  but  she  possessed 
sound  sense,  vigour  of  thought,  and  indefatigable  application. 
Elegance  of  style  and  purity ,  of  sentiment,  which  sometimes 
rises  to  the  sublime,  are  the  chief  characteristics  of  her  poetry ; 
for  which,  however,  she  is  less  celebrated  than  for  her  learn- 
ing. 


648 


LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


WILLIAM  ALLEN. 


PITALFIELDS,  London,  was  the  birth-piace 
of  this  distinguished  Christian  and  philan- 
thropist. He  was  born  August  29,  1770, 
and  both  his  parents  were  members  of  the  So- 
ciety of  Friends.  His  mind  was  early  imbued 
with  feelings  of  piety,  and  with  a  belief 
that  the  Spirit  of  Grod  might  one  day  rest  upon 
him,  to  direct  his  thoughts  and  actions.  At  an 
early  age  he  was  placed  at  a  boarding-r^chool  in 
Rochester,  where  the  taste  which  he  afterwards 
cultivated  for  philosophical  studies  soon  developed 
itself.  Many  of  his  youthful  experiments  in 
chemistry  are  on  record ;  and  at  the  age  of  fourteen 
he  had,  at  the  expense  of  fourteen  pence,  constructed 
a  rude  telescope,  with  which  he  could  see  the  moons 
of  Jupiter.  After  leaving  school,  he  engaged  with  his 
father  in  the  silk  business;  but  as  this  ill  accorded  with  his 
philosophical  taste,  he  in  a  little  while  entered  the  chemical 
establishment  of  Joseph  Gurney  Bevan  at  Plough  Court.  Here 
he  advanced  from  one  grade  to  another  until  he  finally  became 
the  proprietor.  For  several  years  he  was  much  occupied  with 
the  executive  parts  of  business,  and  the  prosecution  of  studies 
connected  with  it ;  yet  in  no  instance  does  it  appear  that  he 
allowed  secular  concerns  to  interfere  with  sacred  duties.  From 
his  diary,  which  he  kept  after  entering  his  eighteenth  year,  we 
learn  that  he  was  dilgent  in  attending  his  week-day  meetings, 
and  set  apart  a  portion  of  each  day  for  prayer  and  religious 
meditation.  The  Scriptures  were  his  constant  study;  and  his 
life  was  a  living  evidence  of  the  efficacy  of  their  teachings,  to 
elevate  and  purify  the  character  of  man,  and  enlarge  his  capa- 
bilities for  extensive  usefulness. 

In  1796,  William  Allen   was  united  in  marriage  to  his  first 


WILLIAM    ALLEN.  649 

wife,  Mary  Hamilton,  whom  he  lost  in  less  than  a  year.  The 
state  of  his  feelings,  at  that  afflicting  event,  are  exhibited  with 
painful  vividness  in  his  diary.  He  was  eminently  fitted  for  the 
enjoyment  of  domestic  and  social  pleasures  ;  and  the  feeling  he 
evinces  at  each  of  the  many  calamities  which  he  endured,  do 
honoui#to  his  heart  and  his  creed. 

In  proportion  as  he  prospered  in  business,  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  persons  eminent  either  from  character  or  station. 
Intercourse  with  them  gradually  drew  him  into  association  with 
many  scientific  or  benevolent  projects,  by  which  his  sphere  of 
usefulness  as  a  man  and  a  Christian  was  greatly  enlarged. 
When  delivering  public  lectures  on  chemistry,  he  seized  every 
opportunity  to  impress  upon  his  audience  the  proofs  of  reli- 
gion afforded  by  that  science,  and  the  wonderful  manner  in 
which  it  exhibits  the  workmanship  of  an  infinitely  wise  Creator. 
Amid  the  success  which  attended  these  lectures,  it  is  edifying  to 
observe  how  carefully  he  guards  against  vanity  and  love  of  ap- 
plause. At  one  time,  he  fears  that  philosophy  has  drawn  his 
attention  from  religion;  at  another,  that  it  may  lead  him  into 
hurtful  society ;  and  again,  that  the  time  devoted  to  science  is 
not  occupied  so  profitably  as  it  might  be.  He  acquires  know- 
ledge, not  as  a  philosopher,  but  a  Christian :  not  by  way  of  self- 
aggrandizement,  but  to  benefit  his  felloAv-men.  After  his  second 
marriage  with  Charlotte  Hanbury,  in  1806,  he  remained  in  the 
office  of  overseer  of  the  Friends'  Society  until  1813,  when  he 
was  appointed  elder.  His  labours  in  this  Capacity  Avere  many 
and  arduous ;  besides  which,  he  was  engaged  with  Wilberforce 
and  others,  in  efforts  to  abolish  slave  labour,  to  christianize 
Africa,  to  relieve  the  distressed  manufacturers  of  England,  and 
to  promote  the  project  for  the  institution  of  Bible  Societies.  He 
was  appointed  by  the  Society  of  Friends  to  present  to  the  Emperor 
of  Russia  and  the  King  of  Prussia,  during  their  visit  to  London 
in  1814,  petitions  and  plans  for  establishing  Bible  Societies  in 
their  dominions.  At  the  same  time,  he  corresponded  with  dis- 
tinguished men  in  diftereut  parts  of  Europe,  with  a  view  to  effect 
the  same  object.  In  1816,  he  was  sent  on  a  religious  tour 
through  France,  Netherlands,  and  Germany,  during  which  jour- 
ney he  lost  his  wife,  who  died  near  Geneva.  He  again  visited 
France  in  the  following  year ;  and  in  1818,  went  to  Scotland, 
f  )r  the  double  purpose  of  promoting  the  immediate  objects  of 
82 


650  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

his  eldership  and  ameliorating  the  condition  of  destitute  labour- 
ers. During  the  same  year,  and  the  following,  he  travelled 
through  the  north  of  Europe,  and  obtained  an  interview  with 
the  Russian  emperor,  in  order  to  lay  before  him  a  plan  for 
establishing  schools  in  his  dominions,  a  part  of  the  instruction  in 
w^hich  would  be  courses  of  scriptural  readings.  The  project 
met  with  great  success.  A  similar  plan  for  girls'  schools  was 
submitted  to  the  empress.  Leaving  Petersburg,  Allen  jour- 
neyed through  Russia,  visiting  Moscow  and  other  places,  and  en- 
tered Turkey,  everywhere  directing  his  efforts  to  the  great  cause 
ever  uppermost  in  his  mind.  Returning,  he  sailed  down  the 
Archipelago,  touching  at  Greece,  then  through  the  Mediterra- 
nean to  Italy,  and  then  homeward  by  Switzerland  and  France. 
In  a  subsequent  journey,  he  exerted  himself  with  the  emperors 
of  Russia  and  Austria,  in  behalf  of  the  oppressed  Greeks,  and 
used  his  influence  for  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  different  colo- 
nies and  for  ameliorating  the  condition  of  the  Waldenses. 
<'  Remedy  (he  writes  to  the  Russian  emperor  in  behalf  of  these 
oppressed  mountaineers)  in  cases  of  great  oppression  is  here 
almost  hopeless,  because  the  government  will  receive  nothing 
that  does  not  come  through  the  regular  channel,  which  is,  through 
the  constable  and  judge  of  the  place,  and  these  are  almost  al- 
ways their  bitter  enemies."  During  this  and  later  visits  to  the 
Continent,  he  obtained  interviews  with  nearly  all  the  crowned 
heads,  and  with  the  most  distinguished  men  of  all  professions, 
using  his  cfiurts  with  all  for  furthering  his  plans  of  benevo- 
lence. 

In  1827,  Allen  married  his  third  wife,  Grizell  Birkbeck,  and 
in  1832  made  another  tour  to  the  Continent.  During  this,  and 
his  last  journey,  in  1840,  he  travelled  over  nearly  all  the  west 
and  middle  of  Europe,  including  Spain,  and  held  religious  meet- 
ings throughout  almost  all  the  route.  It  is  wonderful  to  con- 
tt-mplate  with  what  energy  this  man  of  many  3^ears  engaged  in 
distant  enterprises  and  laboured  for  the  good  of  his  fellow-men. 
*'  His  engagements  in  the  ministry  (his  friends  remarked  after 
his  death)  were  peculiarly  attended  with  the  unction  of  hea- 
venly love  ;  they  were  marked  by  great  simplicity,  and  a  fer- 
vent desire  that  all  might  be  attracted  to  the  Fountain  of  life, 
and  be  made  experimental  partakers  of  that  refreshing  which 
comes  from   the   presence   of  the   Lord.     lie  was   often  led  to 


WILLIAM   ALLEN.  661 

dwell  upon  the  spiritual  nature  of  true  worship,  and  of  thai  <  bap- 
tism which  now  saveth,'  and  was  frequently  concerned  to  bear 
testimony  to  the  infinite  value  of  the  propitiatory  sacrifice  of 
the  Lord  Jesus,  dwelling  on  the  redemption  that  was  thereby 
purchased  for  fallen  man,  and  on  the  consolation  to  be  de- 
rived from  the  application  of  this  doctrine.  The  preservation 
of  the  youth  among  us,  and  their  establishment  in  the  truth  as  it 
fs  in  Jesus,  were  especially  the  objects  of  his  fervent  concern, 
and  he  frequently  and  affectionately  exhorted  them  to  attend 
to  the  monitions  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  to  yield  obedience  to 
all  that  was  manifested  to  be  consistent  with  the  Divine  will. 
He  was  a  man  of  prayer,  and  in  his  private  retirements  often 
poured  forth  his  spirit  in  earnest  supplications  at  the  throne 
of  grace.  So  great  was  his  sense  of  the  awfulness  of  publicly 
calling  on  the  name  of  the  Lord  in  the  congregations  of  the 
people,  that  when  he  ventured  on  this  solemn  engagement  he 
manifested  much  holy  fear  and  brokenness  of  spirit,  and  a  bap- 
tizing power  was  often  sensibly  felt  to  accompany  the  off'er- 
ing."  _ 

During  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  William  Allen  resided  near 
Lindfield  in  Sussex,  where  he  had  established  schools  of  indus- 
try. Here  he  devoted  himself  to  plans  for  improving  the  con- 
dition of  the  labouring  classes.  In  1842,  he  was  attacked  with 
severe  illness,  which  obliged  him  to  withdraw  from  many  of  his 
most  useful  avocations.  "  I  believe,  (he  wrote,)  this  illness  is 
Bent  in  mercy  to  me,  to  wean  me  more  and  more  from  all  things 
below,  and  to  make  me  look  more  steadily  to  the  end  of  time." 
He  recovered  sufficiently  to  unite  with  his  friends  in  their  reli- 
gious meetings,  and  occasionally  to  officiate  in  ministerial  duties. 
The  calmness  of  his  spirit  testified  that  his  mind  was  stayed  on 
God ;  but  while  expressing  conviction  that  his  work  here  was 
nearly  accomplished,  he  would  not  wish  that  his  time  was  either 
longer  or  shorter.  His  final  illness  lasted  nearly  eleven  weeks, 
during  which  time  his  religious  sensibility  was  lively,  his  thoughts 
Lmbracing  absent  friends  as  well  as  those  present.  When  capa- 
ble of  reflection,  his  mind  seemed  steadily  turned  toward  hea- 
venly things  ;  and  Avhen  nearly  exhausted,  he  ejaculated  "  Come 
Lord,  dear  Lord."  He  died  at  Lindfield,  December  30,  1843, 
in  his  seventy-third  year.  He  was  interred  six  weeks  after,  at 
Stoke  Newington,  in  pi-esence  of  a  large  assembly. 


652 


LIVES  OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JOSEPH   LANCASTER, 


HO  invented  the  Lancasterian  School  system, 
was  born  in  Kent  Square,  Southwark,  (Lon- 
don,) November  27,  1778.  His  father  had 
been  a  soldier  in  the  American  war,  but,  being 
a  man  of  rare  pietv,  he  took  much  pains,  in 
conjunction  with  his  wife,  to  inculcate  on  his 
children  the  principles  of  piety.  "My  first 
impressions,"  says  Lancaster,  "  of  the  beauty  of 
the  Christian  religion  were  received  from  their 
instructions."  As  a  most  singular  instance  of 
the  eifect  of  these  instructions  upon  his  mind, 
be  relates,  that  when  a  child  he  frequently  retired 
to  a  corner,  where  he  repeated  again  and  again  the 
name  of  Jesus,  bowing  each  time  reverently  to  it. 
I  seemed  to  feel,"  he  afterwards  said,  "  that  it  was  the 
name  of  one  I  loved,  and  to  whom  my  heart  performed 
reverence.  I  departed  from  my  retirement  well  satisfied 
with  what  I  had  been  doing,  and  I  never  remembered  it  but 
with  delight."  The  enthusiasm  and  ardent  longing  after  the 
good  and  beautiful  in  character,  which  distinguished  him  when 
a  child,  form  prominent  features  in  his  subsequent  history. 
When  eight  years  old,  with  a  heart  "filled  with  love  and  devo- 
tion to  God,"  and  "breathings  of  good-will  to  the  human  race," 
he  studied  the  Gospels,  unassisted  and  in  retirement.  Six  years 
after,  he  read  "  Clarkson's  Essay  on  the  Slave  Trade."  And 
now  a  change  came  over  his  feelings  and  his  desires.  Hitherto 
he  had  studied  alone  and  for  himself;  now  he  must  study  and 
labour  for  others.  Hitherto  his  enthusiasm  had  fed  upon  and 
gistained  itself;  henceforward,  it  must  have  one  mighty  object 
to  attain,  the  struggle  for  which  filled  his  mind  with  burning 
thouglits,  which,  when  wrought  into  action  seemed  to  other  men 
madness.  At  fourteen — a  boy — friendless  and  unknown — he 
adopted  the  resolution  of  going  to  Jamaica  to  teach  the  negroes 
to  read  the  Bible. 


JOSEPH   LANCASTEK.  653 

The  narrative  of  his  attempted  journey  to  the  West  Indies  is 
worthy  of  perusal;  displaying,  as  it  does,  how  genius  rightly 
directed  will  overcome  all  difficulties.  Young  Lancaster  left 
home  for  Bristol  without  the  knowledge  of  his  parents,  and 
carrying  nothing  with  him  except  a  Bible,  the  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress, and  a  few  shillings.  The  first  night  he  slept  under  a 
hedge,  the  second  under  a  hay-stack.  When  his  money  was 
exhausted  he  was  sustained  by  a  mechanic  whom  he  met  on  the 
road,  and  who  was  also  travelling  to  Bristol.  Pennyless  and 
almost  shoeless,  he  there  engaged  as  a  volunteer,  and  was  sent 
to  Milford  Haven,  where  he  embarked.  On  board  he  gained  from 
the  sailors  the  title  of  parson,  and  occasionally  warned  them  of 
the  temptations  incident  to  their  profession.  He  was  soon,  how- 
ever, restored  to  his  parents,  through  the  kindness  of  a  friend 

From  this  time,  until  he  was  eighteen,  he  assisted  at  two 
schools,  one  a  day  the  other  a  boarding-school,  where  he  had 
an  opportunity  of  examining  the  defects  of  the  then  prevalent 
school  system.  He  then  commenced  teaching  for  himself  on 
the  "free"  system;  taking  all  children  wlio  came,  and  clothing 
those  Avho  needed  clothing.  Soon  a  new  school-room  became  ne- 
cessary. One  was  provided  through  the  benevolence  of  the  Duke 
of  Bedford  and  Lord  Sommerville,  and  the  children  "came  in 
for  education  like  flocks  of  sheep."  In  a  little  while  they  num- 
bered a  thousand.  He  was  the  companion,  the  playmate,  the 
benefactor,  as  well  as  the  instructor  of  his  pupils ;  and  as  such 
jie  was  adored  by  them.  From  this  state  of  real  happiness  he 
was  brought  upon  the  arena  of  the  world  to  suffer  trial,  mortifi- 
cation, applause  uncongenial  to  his  feelings,  and  finally  neglect. 

He  became  an  object  of  public  attention.  The  facility  with 
which  he  managed  hundreds  of  rude  boys  became  food  for 
curiosity  and  speculation.  First  came  the  neighbouring  gentry 
on  visits;  then  schoolmasters  and  professors  from  some  distance  ; 
then  speculators  and  political  economists  ;  then  foreign  princes, 
ambassadors,  peers,  commoners,  ladies  of  distinction,  bishops, 
and  archbishops.  His  writings  were  dragged  to  light  and  passed 
through  edition  after  edition,  each  larger  than  its  predecessor. 
He  abandoned  the  school-room  to  youths  trained  under  his 
eye.  and  was  placed  on  the  lecture  stand  before  crowded  audi- 
ences. Even  the  monarch  admitted  him  to  his  presence ;  and 
while  the  humble  tutor  stood,  with  hat  on  head,  the   monarch 


654  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

applauded  and  remunerated  him.  A  subscription,  headed  b;jf 
the  names  of  the  royal  family,  was  opened,  and  money  began 
to  pour  upon  him  from  every  quarter. 

But  with  this  prosperity  came  trials  to  which  Lancaster  had 
hitherto  been  a  stranger.  He  was  naturally  enthusiastic,  now 
his  enthusiasm  was  heightened  to  delirium.  Then,  and  years 
after,  his  mind  was  almost  constantly  in  a  state  of  excitement 
which  seemed  almost  too  great  for  the  human  frame  to  endure 
It  seems  wonderful  that  he  survived  it.  Yet  from  this  worldly 
tumult,  for  which  he  was  unfitted,  he  found  refuge  in  the  quie* 
moments  of  meditation  and  prayer.  At  one  time  the  "  iroi: 
hand  of  affliction  and  sorrow  is  upon  him;"  at  another,  he  it 
telling  the  liigh  and  mighty  ones  that  the  decree  of  heaven  hath 
gone  forth,  that  the  poor  youth  of  these  nations  shall  be  edu- 
cated, and  it  is  out  of  the  power  of  man  to  reverse  it."  Now 
he  feels  "peaceful  and  resigned,"  and  that  he  is  '<sent  into  the 
world  to  do  and  suffer  the  Avill  of  God ;"  and  again,  he  shouts 
"  victory  !  victory !  the  enemies  are  amazed  and  confounded ; 
the  stout-hearted  are  spoiled  ;  they  have  slept  their  sleep  ;  none 
of  the  men  of  might  have  found  their  hands;  the  Lord  hath 
cast  the  horse  and  his  rider  into  a  deep  sleep."  Of  the  value 
and  correct  use  of  money  he  was  ignorant,  lavishing  it  as  he 
had  received  it;  yet  always,  it  should  be  remarked,  in  the  be- 
lief that  it  was  promoting  the  advancement  of  Christianity  and 
virtue.  His  affairs  soon  became  deranged;  his  creditors,  who 
of  course  understood  little  of  his  character,  and  cared  less,  came 
upon  him ;  and  the  former  idolized  philanthropist  was  thrown 
into  prison.  Calamity  could  make  no  more  impression  upon 
him  than  prosperity  had  done.  He  "is  as  happy  as  Joseph  was 
in  tlie  king's  prison;"  cannot  believe  "  that  if  the  Almighty  has 
designed  the  education  of  the  poor  in  London,  a  few  poor,  piti- 
less creditors  can  prevent  it  ;"  and  desires  that  his  friends'  eyes 
might  be  opened  "to  see  the  mountain  full  of  horses  of  fire  and 
chariots  of  fire  round  about  Elijah."  In  1808  he  was  released: 
his  affairs  were  consigned  to  trustees ;  and  through  his  instru- 
mentality the  British  and  Foreign  School  society  was  formed. 

These  transactions  produced  no  change  in  Lancaster's  char- 
acter. His  piety  was  as  fervid  and  childlike  as  ever,  his  .phil- 
anthropy undamped,  his  knowledge  of  what  men  called  business 
as  rudimental.     In  1818  he  sailed  for  the  New  World. 


JOSEPH   LANCASTER.  655 

On  arriving  in  the  United  States,  Lancaster  was  received  as 
the  friend  of  learning  and  of  mankind ;  invited  to  lecture,  and 
heard  as  he  had  been  in  England.  This  enthusiasm  gradually 
subsided,  especially  after  rumours  of  his  pecuniary  transactions 
arrived  from  his  own  country.  Sickness,  long  and  severe, 
visited  his  family ;  and  before  he  was  aware  of  its  approach, 
poverty  came  upon  him  as  an  armed  man.  Being  advised  to 
remove  to  a  warmer  climate,  he  visited  Caraccas,  where  he 
iiwas  kindly  received,  promised  great  things,  honoured  with 
the  performance  of  little  ones."  He  was  even  obliged  to  leave 
his  family,  and .  fly  from  the  country.  He  visited  Santa  Cruz 
and  St.  Thomas,  occasionally  lecturing  there,  and  then  returned 
to  Philadelphia.  Again  sickness  overtook  him,  with  poverty 
and  sorrow.  In  miserable  lodgings,  with  an  apparently  dying 
wife,  pinched  by  want,  and  oppressed  by  diflSculties  of  every 
kind,  he  appealed  to  the  public  for  assistance.  The  appeal 
was  answered.  The  corporation  of  New  York  voted  him  five 
hundred  dollars,  with  which  he  rented  a  small  house,  and  soon 
began  to  recover  strength. 

Lancaster  now  resolved  on  returning  to  England,  and  had 
nearly  agreed  upon  his  passage,  when  circumstances  induced 
him  to  visit  Canada.  At  Montreal  he  .ectured  with  such  suc- 
cess that  a  tide  of  prosperity  flowed  upon  him,  and  determined 
him  to  remain.  But  w^ith  this  singular  man  prosperity  was 
always  the  vestibule  to  poverty.  Another  series  of  reverses 
made  him  poor,  and  he  opened  a  private  school.  Yet  he  clung 
to  the  consolations  of  religion,  and  was  rewarded  by  inward 
serenity  of  mind,  and  the  proud  consciousness  of  right.  Soon 
after  an  annuity  was  granted  him  from  England,  and  his  re- 
maining days  were  less  stormy  and  irregular  than  those  before. 

Having  sketched  the  life  of  this  truly  good  and  useful,  though 
eccentric  man,  Ave  approach  with  feelings  of  melancholy  the 
narrative  of  his  untimely  end.  He  had  again  formed  the  re- 
solution of  returning  to  England,  and  was  within  a  short  time 
of  executing  it,  when  he  was  run  over  by  a  carriage  in  the 
streets  of  New  York,  October  23,  1838.  His  ribs  being  broken, 
and  his  head  much  lacerated,  he  was  carried  to  the  house  of  a 
friend,  where  he  died  calmly,  and  apparently  without  a  struggle, 
in  the  fifty-first  year  of  his  age. 


656  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 


JOSEPH   JOHN   GURNEY. 


OSEPH  JOHN  GURNEY,  an  eminent  mem- 
ber of  the  denomination  of  Friends  in  Eng- 
land, was  born  at  Earlham,  near  Norwich, 
August  2,  1788.     In  infancy  he,  in  common 
with  ten  other  children,  was  deprived  of  his 
.,  maternal  parent,  and,  in  consequence  of  that 

JflO  -  loss,  exposed  to  many  misfortunes  and  tempta- 
tions. His  subsequent  entrance  upon  secular 
business  was  made  under  flattering  auspices,  he  be- 
ing an  assistant  in  the  large  business  establishment 
connected  with  his  family.  These  prospects,  which, 
to  the  spiritual  interests  of  most  young  persons  would 
lave  proved  a  snare,  aiForded  young  Gurney  an  oppor- 
tunity to  strengthen  the  pious  feelings  he  had  early 
evinced,  and  to  make  business  subservient  to  the  cause 
of  religion.  His  private  memorandums  of  this  period 
evince  that  he  considered  liis  obligations  to  G  id  and  his  fellow- 
men  as  his  paramount  motive;  and  the  views  which  at  that 
tender  age  he  took  of  himself  were  of  the  most  humble  and 
self-abasing  nature. 

Gurney  was  by  birth  a  member  of  the  Society  of  Friends. 
When  he  was  about  twenty-four  years  of  age,  his  previous  reli- 
gious impressions  deepened  into  powerful  convictions  ;  he  feared 
longer  to  remain  out  of  the  Church  ;  he  studied  with  childlike 
enthusiasm  the  sacred- Scriptures  ;  he  called  mightily  for  assist- 
ance from  Heaven ;  and,  finally,  prompted,  as  he  believed,  by 
the  Holy  Spirit,  he  gave  up  all  to  God,  joined  the  Society  of 
Friends,  and  remained  true  to  his  confession  during  the  remain- 
der of  his  life.  "In  thus  entering  more  completely,"  he  says, 
"  into  a  small  society  of  Christians,  I  feel  satisfied  on  the  ground 
of  believing  that  they  do  liold  the  doctrine  of  Christ  in  many 
respects  in   more   original  purity  than  any  other  sect.     But, 


JOSEPH   JOHN   GURNET.  657 

whilst  thus  impressed,  I  earnestly  hope  I  shall  ever  be  able  to 
stand  on  a  broad  basis,  whereon  I  can  heartily  unite  with  all 
Christians.  I  desire  a  catholic  spirit,  a  truly  humble  and  de- 
pendent mind,  an  increase  of  faith,  hope,  and  watchfulness,  and 
knowledge  of  scriptural  truth." 

In  1817,  Gurne}^  married  Jane  Burkbeck  of  Lynn,  by  whom 
he  had  two  children.  She  died  in  1822.  His  mind  was  at  this 
time  impressed  with  the  conviction  that  he  had  been  called  to 
the  ministry,  and  he  seems  to  have  spent  many  days  in  depres- 
sion, temptation,  and  deep  conflict.  His  constant  prayer  was, 
that  the  hand  of  discipline  might  be  instrumental  in  leading  him 
nearer  to  God,  by  showing  him  more  and  more  of  his  own  un- 
worthiness.  To  this  gloomy  period  succeeded  one  of  rejoicing 
and  prayerfulness.  With  fervent  heart  he  commenced  exhorta- 
tions at  Lynn  ;  and,  on  the  11th  of  June,  1818,  he  w^as  acknow- 
ledged as  a  minister  of  the  Friends.  During  the  same  year  he 
attended,  by  permission,  the  general  meetings  in  Scotland,  visit- 
ing on  his  way  the  prisons  of  that  country,  and  the  north  of  Eng- 
land. The  result  of  his  observations  he  embodied  and  published 
in  a  little  w^ork,  which  appears  to  have  elicited  much  attention 
and  been  productive  of  considerable  good.  In  1821,  he  com- 
menced in  various  parts  of  England  an  extensive  religious  ser- 
vice, which,  consisting  of  private  as  well  as  public  meetings,  had 
in  a  few  years  embraced  almost  every  county,  including  London 
and  its  neighbourhood.  Six  years  after,  he  visited  Ireland,  at- 
tending, during  the  visit,  the  yearly  meeting  of  Dublin,  the 
quarterly  meetings,  and  many  others.  Here,  as  in  Scotland, 
he  went  from  prison  to  prison,  and  embodied  his  observations  in 
a  statement  which  he  presented  to  the  British  government. 
For  many  years  afterwards  he  was  a  regular  attendant  upon 
the  general  meetings,  and  a  visitant  in  various  parts  of  England. 
In  1827,  he  again  married ;  but  his  wife,  Mary  Fowler,  died  in 
1835.  The  impression  made  upon  his  mind  by  this  event  was 
deep  and  lasting ;  yet  it  interrupted  his  labours  of  love  only 
during  a  short  period.  We  are  to  view  him,  soon  after  the  re- 
commencement of  these  labours,  embarked  on  a  new  and  wide 
arena. 

In  July,  1837,  Gurney  sailed  for  the  United  States.     Land 
ing  at  Philadelphia,  he  visited  the  societies  of  that  city,  and 
afterwards  travelled  through  the  greater  portion  of  the  Northern 
83 


658  LIVES   OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

and  Middle  States.  He  afterwards  passed  into  Canada,  and 
sailed  then  to  the  West  Indies,  where  he  held  religious  service 
in  the  Danish  and  some  of  the  British  islands.  In  1840,  he 
returned  to  the  United  States,  and  four  months  after  to  Eng- 
land. 

In  1841,  Gurney  again  married,  and  his  third  wife  was  asso- 
ciated with  him  throughout  his  subsequent  religious  career. 
During  the  two  following  years  his  pastoral  visits  extended  over 
various  parts  of  France,  Germany,  Switzerland,  and  Great 
Britain,  holding  many  meetings  in  his  journeys,  and  obtaining 
access  to  the  sovereigns  of  France,  Denmark,  Prussia,  and 
Wurtemburg.  His  last  services  of  this  kind  consisted  of  visits 
to  small  meetinc;s  in  and  around  London. 

Besides  his  Christian  duties,  this  good  man  was  engaged  in 
many  benevolent  or  philanthropic  movements.  He  was  an  un- 
tiring opponent  to  the  slave  trade,  a  disbeliever  in  the  efficacy 
of  capital  punishment,  and  an  effectual  friend  of  the  poor,  the 
oppressed,  and  the  imprisoned.  His  conviction  of  the  vast  im- 
portance of  the  sacred  writings  made  him  an  advocate  of  the 
Bible  Society ;  while  his  donations  to  the  various  subjects  of 
charity  were  commensurate  with  the  enlarged  means  placed  by 
Providence  at  his  disposal.  In  his  writings  he  appears  to  have 
been  actuated  by  a  sincere  desire  to  promote  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  welfare  of  men. 

We  draw  near  the  closing  scene  in  the  life  of  this  distinguished 
Christian.  A  fall  from  a  horse  laid  him  upon  the  couch  of 
death  :  and  eight  days  afterward,  January  4,  1847,  he  expired. 
His  last  moments  were  a  fit  appendix  to  such  a  life.  He  suf- 
fered little  pain ;  his  constitutional  timidity  was  strengthened 
when  many  feared  it  would  overwhelm  his  soul  with  darkness 
and  distress  ;  as  the  tide  of  life  quietly,  almost  unconsciously, 
ebbed  away,  he  said  with  a  smile,  "  I  think  I  feel  a  little  joyful ;" 
and  in  a  few  hours  afterward,  amid  profound  silence,  he  fell 
asleep. 

Joseph  Gurney  was  buried  at  Norwich,  in  the  Friends'  burial 
ground.  A  large  number  of  Friends  and  citizens  of  all  classes 
were  present ;  and  the  ceremonies  were  imposing  because  they 
were  simple. 


THOMAS  FOWELL  BUXTON. 


t>59 


THOMAS  FOWELL   BUXTON. 


HOMAS    FOWELL    BUXTON   was    born, 

xVpril  1,  1786,  at  Castle  Hedingham.  His 
ancestors  were  of  honourable  extraction ;  and 
his  father  at  the  time  of  his  birth  was  high- 
sheriff  of  Essex  county.  This  parent  Thomas 
{  lost  when  six  years  old,  and  the  education  of 
himself  and  two  younger  sisters  devolved  upon 
the  mother.  <' She  was,"  he  says,  "a  woman 
of  a  very  vigorous  mind,  and  possessing  many  of 
;he  generous  virtues  in  a  very  high  degree.  She 
as  large  minded  about  every  thing ;  disinterested 
Qost  to  excess ;  careless  of  difficulty,  labour,  dan- 
ger, or  expense  in  the  prosecution  of  any  great  object. 
With  these  nobler  qualities  were  united  some  of  the 
imperfections  which  belong  to  that  species  of  ardent  and 
resolute  character."  Her  management  of  her  children 
was  peculiar.  She  maintained  absolute  authority,  yet  rarely 
threatened  to  enforce  it.  In  her  system  was  much  liberty  but  little 
indulgence.  With  Thomas  she  spoke  and  associated  rather  as 
a  companion  than  a  mother,  so  that  he  began  early  to  think 
much  for  himself  and  of  himself.  He  became,  as  he  himself 
says,  "of  a  daring,  violent,  domineering  temper;"  but  after- 
wards, when  time  had  worn  off  the  asperities  of  such  a  character, 
he  often  thanked  his  parent  for  her  training  of  him,  attributing 
to  it  that  strength  of  mind  and  will  for  which  he  was  ever  re- 
markable. 

Before  he  was  five  years  old,  Buxton  was  placed  at  a  school 
in  Kingston,  where  he  learned  little  and  suffered  much.  His 
subsequent  career  of  eight  years  under  Dr.  Charles  Burney  of 
Greenwich  was  equally  brilliant.  Burney  was  kind  but  injudi- 
cious. Buxton  learned  little  under  him  save  mischief;  and  of 
that  he  learned  so  much  that  he  became  the  dread  of  well-dis- 


660  LIVES  OF  EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

posed  boys,  and  an  object  of  melancholy  presentiment  concern- 
ing the  future.  The  means  by  which  Providence  roused  him 
from  this  critical  condition  was  a  visit  of  Mr.  Gurney,  then 
near  Norwich.  The  charms  of  intellect  and  goodness,  so  abun- 
dantly possessed  by  the  family  of  that  man,  fascinated  him.  He 
was  surprised  to  find  even  the  youngest  of  eleven  children  occu- 
pied in  self-education,  and  inspired  with  energy  in  every  pur- 
suit, whether  of  amusement  or  knowledge.  Henceforward  life 
appeared  to  him  under  a  new  aspect,  and  his  character  under- 
went a  complete  change.  "  They  were  eager  for  improvement," 
he  subsequently  wrote:  "I  caught  the  infection.  I  was  resolved 
to  please  them  ;  and  in  the  college  of  Dublin,  at  a  distance  from 
all  my  friends  and  all  control,  their  influence,  and  the  desire  to 
please  them,  kept  me  hard  at  my  books,  and  sweetened  the  toil 
they  gave."  So  strong  was  this  "desire  to  please,"  that  while 
preparing  for  the  University,  he  studied  morning,  noon,  and 
night ;  abandoned  all  misceUaneous  reading,  and  embraced  only 
twice  in  five  years  the  privilege  of  engaging  in  a  shooting-match. 

In  1803,  Buxton  entered  the  Dublin  University,  obtaining 
the  second  place  at  the  entrance  examination,  and  the  premium 
at  the  folloAving  one.  In  the  Historical  Society  connected  with 
the  University  he  won  several  premiums,  and  was  awarded 
the  society's  silver  medal.  Finally,  he  received  from  Trinity 
College  its  highest  honour,  a  medal  of  gold.  In  1807,  his  fel- 
low students  invited  him  to  represent  them  in  Parliament ;  but 
this  invitation  he  declined,  in  consequence  of  his  engagements 
with  Miss  Hannah  Gurney,  whom,  in  May  of  that  year,  he 
married. 

In  1808,  he  engaged  in  business  in  Trueman's  brewery,  of 
which  he  subsequently  became  partner.  During  ten  years  he 
devoted  himself  almost  exclusively  to  its  afi"airs,  until  he  was 
relieved  gradually  of  the  necessity  of  attending  to  it  personally, 
■and  introduced  into  new  scenes  and  associations.  Having  be- 
come acquainted  with  the  distinguished  Friend,  William  Allen, 
he  was  induced  to  take  part  in  the  movements  favourable  to  the 
Bible  Society  and  the  poor  weavers  of  England.  A  long  course 
of  silent  but  earnest  meditation  on  the  subjects  of  religion  and 
philanthropy  had  prepared  him  for  this  new  work.  The  Bible 
had  long  been  his  theological  creed ;  his  perusal  of  it  was 
habitual  and  prayerful:  and,  since   1811,  he  appears  to  hav« 


THOMAS   FOWELL   BUXTON.  661 

had  powerful  convictions  of  his  condition  as  a  sinner.  When, 
in  connection  with  these  feelings,  we  associate  his  character  by 
nature — his  strong  love  of  truth,  his  integrity  and  conscientious- 
ness, his  dislike  of  pomp  or  empty  forms,  his  practical  devotion 
to  whatever  cause  he  took  up — the  importance  of  his  agency  in 
a  work  of  moral  reform  may  be  easily  divined. 

In  November,  1816,  Mr.  Buxton  made  his  first  public  speech. 
It  was  in  behalf  of  the  Spitalfields  weavers,  then  in  great  dis- 
tress, and  resulted  in  raising  for  them  more  than  forty-three 
thousand  pounds.  In  the  following  year  he  visited  Paris,  for  the 
purpose  of  establishing  in  that  city^  a  branch  of  the  Bible  Society. 
About  the  same  time  appeared  liis  work  on  prison  discipline, 
containing  painful  exposures  of  the  barbarous  treatment  of 
criminals  in  the  British  jails.  It  passed  through  six  editions, 
was  praised  by  Sir  James  Mackintosh  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
and  found  its  way  through  Europe  as  far  as*  Turkey.  Next 
year  he  was  sent  to  Parliament  for  Weymouth.  While  there 
he  made  several  speeches,  and  was  unwearied  in  his  opposition 
to  capital  punishment,  except  in  cases  of  murderers,  and  the 
abolition  of  slavery.  For  his  efforts  in  the  latter  course  he  w^as, 
in  1823,  chosen  one  of  the  vice-presidents  of  the  Anti-Slavery 
Society  established  in  that  year.  On  the  15th  of  May,  of  the 
same  year,  he  moved  in  Parliament,  "  That  the  House  take  into 
consideration  the  state  of  slavery  in  the  British  colonies."  An 
animated  debate  ensued  ;  but  we  may  remark,  as  fruit  of  this  early 
effort,  that  circulars  were  addressed  to  the  West  Indian  planters, 
requiring  them  to  provide  the  means  of  religious  instruction  for 
their  slaves ;  to  stop  Sunday  markets  and  Sunday  labour ;  to 
allow  slaves  to  have  property  by  law ;  to  legalize  their  mar- 
riages ;  to  abolish  the  corporal  punishment  of  females ;  to  re- 
strain the  power  of  arbitrary  punishment,  &c.  These  circulars 
produced  frightful  commotions  among  the  planters ;  sei  I'ous 
thoughts  were  entertained  of  opposing  by  open  force  the  ugent.s 
of  the  parent  government ;  and,  by  way  of  satisfaction,  humireds 
of  slaves  who  had  rejoiced  at  the  doings  of  the  "  great  king  "  in 
their  favour,  were  shot,  lashed  to  death,  or  executed  after  mock 
trials.  Government  shamefully  retreating  from  the  position  it 
had  taken,  Buxton  suddenly  found  himself  the  most  unpopular 
man  in  London,  and  the  whole  affair  was  necessarily  suspended. 

On  the  ly^  of  June,  1824,  the  subject  was  again  introduced 

3  K 


662  LIVES    OF   EMINENT    CHRISTIANS 

to  the  House  by  Mr.  Brougham,  who,  in  a  speech  of  four  hours* 
length,  brought  forward  the  case  of  the  martyr  missionary, 
Smith,  and  of  the  suffering  negroes.  This  turned  the  tide  of 
popular  opinion,  which  from  that  day  ran  strongly  against 
slavery.  To  a  petition  which  Mr.  Buxton  presented  in  1826, 
seventy-two  thousand  names  had  been  signed  by  residents  in 
London  alone.  In  the  following  year  he  collected  evidence  on 
the  shive  trade,  in  connection  with  Mauritius.  The  horrible  cases 
of  suffering  examined  by  him  during  this  investigation  threw 
him  into  such  a  state  of  feeling  as  brought  on  fever  and  apo- 
plexy, from  which  he  narrowly  escaped  with  his  life.  But  his 
labours  in  this  instance  were  crowned  Avith  success. 

Government  still  inclined  to  lenient  measures.  It  trusted 
to  the  honour  of  the  planters  for  accomplishing  needful  changes 
of  character,  and  gradual  emancipation  of  person.  But  in  the 
British  islands  tke  slave  population  decreased  in  a  ratio  of  one- 
eighth  in  twenty-three  years  ;  each  slave  worked  from  fifteen  to 
nineteen  hours  a  day ;  and  the  rancour  of  tlie  planters  incj'eased 
up  to  the  hour  of  abolition.  The  negroes  had  passed  the  limit 
of  human  endurance ;  a  general  revolt  was  near  at  hand ;  already 
turaults  were  taking  place  in  Jamaica;  and  the  planters,  as 
though  inviting  the  vengeance  of  government,  destroyed  seven- 
teen chapels,  insulted  and  abused  pastor  and  congregation,  and 
avowed  their  determination  to  extirpate  Christianity  from  their 
midst.  Then  Parliament  took  up  the  matter  in  earnest;  and,  in 
August,  1838,  the  glorious  bill  was  passed,  abolishing  slavery  in 
the  British  West  Indies. 

With  like  earnestness  did  this  benevolent  man  labour  for  the 
abolition  of  the  African  slave  trade;  and  in  1828  he  had  the 
satisfaction  of  seeing  the  Hottentots  liberated  along  the  shores 
of  South  Africa.  In  1829,  he  voted  for  the  "Emancipation" 
Bill — an  action  which  evinces  that,  though  firmly  convinced  of 
the  errors  of  Popery,  he  Avas  ever  ready  to  vindicate  the  rights^ 
of  Catholics  as  citizens  and  Christians.  Ho  likewise  voted  with 
the  Whigs  for  the  Appropriation  clause  of  the  Irish  Tithe  Bill. 
*'How  has  it  been,"  he  remarked  on  that  occasion,  ''that  truth 
itself — backed  by  a  Protestant  establishment,  by  a  Protestant, 
king  a  Protestant  army,  a  Protestant  parliament — that  truth- 
Itself,  80  far  from  advancing,  has  not  kept  her  ground  against^ 
'^rror?     My  solution   of  the  question   is,  that  we  have  resorted 


THOMAS  FOWELL  BUXTON.  «  . 

to  force  where  reason  alone  could  prevail.  We  have  forgotten 
that  though  the  sword  may  do  its  work — mow  down  armies  and 
subdue  nations — it  cannot  carry  conviction  to  the  understanding 
of  men;  nay,  the  very  use  of  force  tends  to  create  a  barrier  to 
the  reception  of  that  truth  which  it  intends  to  promote.  We 
have  forgotten  that  there  is  something  in  the  human  breast,  no 
base  or  sordid  feeling,  the  same  which  makes  a  generous  mind 
cleave  with  double  affection  to  a  distressed  and  injured  friend, 
and  which  makes  men  cleave  with  ten-fold  fondness — deaf  to 
reason,  deaf  to  remonstrance,  reckless  of  interest,  prodigal  of 
life — to  a  persecuted  religion.  I  charge  the  failure  of  Protes- 
tants in  converting  the  Irish  upon  the  head  of  Protestant  as- 
cendancy." 

In  1837,  Mr.  Buxton  lost  his  election  for  Weymouth,  and 
embraced  the  opportunity  to  retire  to  private  life,  although 
twenty-seven  offers  were  made  to  him  to  stand  for  other  districts. 
In  1839  he  visited  France  and  Italy,  inspecting  the  prisons  in 
his  route.  In  1840,  Queen  Victoria  bestowed  on  him  the  rank 
of  Baronet.  His  health  was  now  much  shattered,  and  during 
the  three  succeeding  years  steadily  grew  worse. 

His  last  days  were  spent  in  exercises  of  devotion.  When 
near  his  departure,  he  replied  to  a  remark  that  he  had  a  firm 
hold  on  Christ,  "Yes,  indeed,  I  have,  unto  eternal  life."  He 
quietly  expired  on  the  19th  of  February,  1844.  He  was  buried 
in  the  ruined  chancel  of  the  church  at  Overstrand,  where  a 
monument  was  subsequently  erected  to  commemorate  his  virtues. 
It  is  a  pleasing  evidence  of  the  manner  in  which  his  labours 
were  regarded  by  the  negroes,  that  four  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
of  the  subscription  money  was  contributed  by  them,  chiefly  in 
pence  and  half-pence.  On  the  monument  a  full  length  statue 
is  yet  to  be  erected. 


664 


LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE, 


UTHOR  of  "The  Ancient  Mariner,"  and  the 
transhitor  of  "  Wallenstein,"  was  born  on 
the   20th   of  October,  1772,  at   Otter j  St. 

f>/-^wio)p^^^  Mary,  in  Devonshire;  the  elei^enth  and 
^Sba^^JW^  youngest  chikl  of  the  Rev.  John  Coleridge, 
'  Vicar  of  that  Parish.  His  father  having  pro- 
cured a  presentation  to  Christ's  Hospital  for 
lim,  he  was  placed  there  in  1782,  in  the  same 
year  with  his  friend  Charles  Lamb,  who  was  three 
years  younger  than  himself.  Here,  under  the 
jare  of  the  Rev.  James  Bowj^er,  head-master  cf  the 
^rammar-school,  he  was  early  distinguished  for  the 
scholarship,  and  it  may  be  added,  for  those  peculiari- 
;ies  of  mind  and  personal  habits  that  marked  his  after 
ireer.  Mr.  Bowyer,  we  are  told  in  Mr.  Coleridge's 
interesting  and  singular  ''Biographia  Literaria,"  was  not 
only  a  zealous  and  clear-sighted  guide  for  him  to  the  riches  of 
the  Greek  and  Roman  poets,  but  a  searching  and  sarcastic  critic 
of  the  metrical  school  exercises,  in  which  his  pupil  gave  his  first 
tokens  of  possessing  oi-iginal  genius.  Thus  it  happened  that 
young  Coleridge's  taste  was  cultivated  and  rendered  fastidious 
before  his  powers  were  at  all  developed ;  and,  apart  from  the 
peculiar  physical  orgatiizaticn  which  throughout  after-life  ope- 
rated on  his  mind  as  a  burden  and  a  hinderance  in  the  work  of 
production  and  accomplishment,  this  very  circumstance  of  hia 
education,  at  first  sight  seeming  so  advantageous,  may  have 
contributed  to  indispose  him  to  attempt  any  continuous  effort, 
or  to  complete  it  if  attempted. 

Other  studies,  which  even  then  exercised  over  him  a  master- 
influence,  were  not  lesa  unfavourable  to  his  yielding  wholly  to 
poetical  iu  pulses.  "  At  a  very  premature  age,"  says  he,  "even 
before  my  fifteenth  year,  I  h'ad  bewildered  myself  in  raetaphy- 


SAMUEL   TAYLOR   COLERIDGE.  666 

sics  and  in  theological  controversy.  History  and  particular 
facts  lost  all  interest  in  my  mind.  *  *  *  j^  ^nj  friendless 
wanderings  en  our  leave  days^  (for  I  was  an  orphan,  and  had 
scarcely  any  connections  in  London, J  highly  was  I  delighted  if 
any  passenger,  especially  if  dressed  in  black,  would  enter  into 
conversation  with  me,  for  I  soon  found  the  means  of  directing 
it  to  my  favourite  subjects — 

Of  providence,  foreknowledge,  will,  and  fate- 
Fixed  fate,  free  will,  foreknowledge  absolute," 

From  the  perplexities  of  these  momentous  topics,  so  dispro- 
portionate with  his  mental  strength  at  that  period,  the  boy 
metaphysician  was  for  a  time  diverted,  by  his  making  friendship 
with  the  sonnets  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bowles.  So  ardently  did  he 
adopt  these,  that  his  funds  not  warranting  purchases,  "he 
made,"  he  tells  us,  "within  less  than  a  year  and  a  half,  no  less 
than  forty  transcriptions,  as  the  best  presents  I  could  offer  to 
those  who  had  in  any  way  won  my  regard."  The  freshness  of 
their  imagery,  the  healthy  simplicity  of  their  language,  not  only 
enchanted  their  enthusiastic  admirer,  but  invited  him  to  attempt 
something  of  his  own,  which  should  possess  similar  excellencies. 

It  was  not,  however,  till  the  year  1794,  that  he  ventured  into 
print.  In  the  interim,  his  fortunes  had  undergone  strange 
vicissitudes.  He  had  remained  at  Christ's  Hospital  till  he  was 
nineteen,  when  having,  as  grecian  or  captain  of  the  school,  won 
an  exhibition  to  the  university,  he  entered  Jesus  College,  Cam- 
bridge, on  the  7th  of  September,  1791.  But  the  discipline  of  a 
college  was  no  less  uncongenial,  whether  to  the  man  or  to  his 
mind,  than  they  subsequently  proved  to  the  gentle-hearted 
Shelley.  From  his  cradle  to  his  grave,  Mr.  Coleridge  was 
marked  by  singularity  of  habits,  amounting  to  the  most  entire 
non-conformity  with  the  ways  and  calculations  of  men.  In  the 
common  relations  of  life  he  was  undecided  and  inconsiderate, — 
loving  better  to  sit  still  and  discuss  some  knotty  point,  than  to 
rise  up  and  act.  The  same  languor  of  spirit  which  prevented 
him  from  ever  advancing  his  worldly  fortunes,  and  which  ero 
long  took  the  form  of  bodily  disease, — the  same  perverseness 
which  made  him,  when  travelling  to  solicit  subscriptions  for  a 
periodical  (The  Watchman)  which  he  was  about  to  establish, 
choose  for  the  subject  of  an  harangue,  in  the  house  of  one  whose 
pat/onage  in  his  undertaking  he  was  seeking,  the  unprofitable- 
84  3  k2 


666  LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

ness  and  unlawfulness  of  all  periodicals, — rendeiod  him  desul- 
tory and  capricious  in  his  college  studies,  allowed  him  to  fall 
into  pecuniary  difficulties,  and  finally  contributed  to  his-  quitting- 
college  without  having  taken  his  degree.  Like  some  others  of 
his  friends,  too,  he  had  disqualified  himself  for  a  university 
career,  by  having  caught  the  Jacobinical  spirit  of  the  time,  as 
"  Robespierre,"  a  hastily  produced  drama,  which  he  wrote  in 
conjunction  with  his  friend  Southey — as  that  tremendous  phi- 
lippic, ''Fire,  Famine,  and  Slaughter,"  sufficiently  attest.  The 
history  of  mind  would  contain  few  more  curious  chapters  than 
that  which  should  trace  the  changes  in  opinion  of  those  young 
authors,  who  entered  the  world  together  so  fiercely  resolved  to 
stand  or  fall  under  the  banner  of  liberty  and  equality  ! 

On  leaving  Cambridge,  Mr.  Coleridge  -was  exposed  to  the 
severest  privations,  and  after  a  few  days  of  distress  and 
perplexity  in  London,  took  the  desperate  step  of  enlisting 
himself  as  a  private  soldier,  in  the  fifteenth  regiment  Elliot's 
Light  Dragoons,  under  the  assumed  name  of  "  Comberback," 
with  the  view  of  retrieving  his  fortunes.  But  he  was  as  unapt 
and  unready  in  all  bodily  exercises  as  he  was  rich  in  recondite 
learning.  Though  orderly  and  obedient,  he  could  not  rub  down 
his  horse ;  and  being  detected  by  his  commanding  officer,  Cap- 
tain Ogle,  as  the  scrawler  of  a  Latin  quotation  upon  the  wall  of 
the  stables  at  Reading,  where  the  regiment  was  quartered,  the 
circumstance  led  to  his  discharge.  It  may  be  added,  on  the 
authority  and  in  the  words  of  the  Rev.  W.  L.  Bowles,  that  "by 
far  the  most  correct,  sublime,  chaste,  and  beautiful  of  his  poems, 
'Religious  Musings,'  was  written  non  inter  sylvas  Acadevii^  but 
in  the  tap-room  at  Reading." 

The  date  of  Mr.  Coleridge's  first  publication,  which  took  place 
shortly  after  this  period,  has  been  given.  The  work  was  favour- 
ably received  by  a  few,  and  cried  down  only  by  such  superficial 
and  overweening  critics  as  welcomed  Mr.  Wordsworth's  first 
poetical  essays  with  -d.  fatal  "  This  will  never  do  !"  In  the  win- 
ter of  1794-5,  having  joined  the  Pantisocratians,  (to  whom  fuller 
allusion  is  made  elsewhere,)  we  find  him  lecturing  at  Bristol  on 
the  French  Revolution,  but  without  much  method  or  regularity, 
and  it  was  eminently  characteristic  of  the  man,  (who  must  always, 
be  considered  separately  from  the  poet  and  the  metaphysician,) 
•ihat  he  rushed  into  the  scheme  without  any  worldly  substance* 


SAMUEL   TAYLOR   COLERIDGE.  667 

and  even  considered  himself  as  furthering  its  purp^/ses  by  his 
early  marriage  with  Miss  Fricker,  which  took  place  in  the  same 
year. 

The  scheme  of  Pantisocracy  was  soon  found  to  be  but  a  broken 
reed  to  lean  upon,  and  the  poet  having  settled  himself  at  Nether 
Stowey — where  many  of  his  most  delicious  verses  were  written, 
— was  obliged  to  endeavour  to  make  his  literary  attainments 
available  for  his  maintenance.  A  periodical,  devoted  to  the 
utterance  of  liberal  opinions,  was  planned,  "  by  sundry  philan- 
thropists and  anti-polemists."  This  was  the  "Watchman,'* 
whose  ill-success  might  be  augured  from  the  anecdote  mentioned 
awhile  since ;  and  having  lingered  through  its  short  and  sickly 
life,  no  one  will  wonder  at  finding  it  presently  used  as  waste 
paper  for  the  lighting  of  fires  in  its  editor's  cottage.  Mr.  Cole- 
ridge also  eked  out  his  means,  at  this  time,  by  contributing 
occasional  poems  to  a  morning  paper. 

In  the  year  1797,  his  volume  of  poetry  went  to  a  second  edi- 
tion, and,  at  Sheridan's  request,  he  wrote  his  beautiful  tragedy 
of  "Remorse,"  which,  however,  was  not  performed  till  the  year 
1813,  and  then  with  but  moderate  success.  About  this  time, 
Mr.  Wordsworth  was  resident  at  Nether  Stowey ;  with  this  gen- 
tleman Mr.  Coleridge  contracted  a  close  and  affectionate  intimacy. 
Each  of  the  two  was  anxious  to  do  his  part  in  what  they  con- 
ceived might  prove  the  revival  of  true  poetry,  and  between  them 
the  "  Lyrical  Ballads"  were  planned.  In  the  execution  of  this 
joint  work,  Mr.  Coleridge  was  "  to  direct  his  endeavours  to  per- 
sons and  characters  supernatural,  or  at  least  romantic,  yet  so 
as  to  transfer  from  our  inward  nature  a  human  interest,  and  a 
resemblance  of  truth  sufiicient  to  procure  for  these  shadows  of 
imagination,  that  willing  suspension  of  disbelief  for  the  moment, 
which  constitutes  poetic  faith."  In  fulfilment  of  this  intention, 
the  "Ancient  Mariner,"  (that  marvel  among  modern  legends,) 
the  "  Genevieve," — in  itself  the  most  exquisite  of  love-tales,  and 
yet  but  thrown  off  as  the  introduction  to  a  story  of  mystery 
never  completed; — and  the  first  part  of  "Christabel"  were  writ- 
ten. The  second  part  of  this  fragment,  whose  fate  it  has  been 
to  be  first  more  scorned,  next  more  quoted,  lastly  more  admired, 
than  most  contemporary  poems,  was  not  added  till  after  its 
author's  return  from  Germany.  It  was  while  Mr.  Coleridge  was 
residing  at  Nether  Stowey,  that  he  occasionally  officiated  as  a 


668  LIVES   OF  EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

Unitarian  i  minister,  at  Taunton ;  and  he  might  probably  havt 
been  promoted  to  the  regular  charge  of  a  congregation  at 
Shrewsbury,  had  not  the  liberality  of  his  friends,  the  Mr.  Wedg- 
woods, offered  him  the  alternative  of  the  means  wherewith  he 
might  proceed  to  Germany  and  complete  his  studies  according^ 
to  his  own  plan.  The  latter  he  was  sure  to  accept.  Mr.  Haz- 
litt  has  left  a  delightful  record  among  his  literary  remains, — uf 
Mr.  Coleridge's  trial  sermon  at  Shrewsbury,  and  of  his  fasci- 
nating powers  of  eloquence  and  conversation ;  this  is  followed 
by  a  no  less  interesting  picture  of  the  poet's  manner  of  life  at 
Nether  Stowey.  Had  it  been  possible  these  should  have  been 
quoted  here,  together  with  Mr.  Coleridge's  own  anecdote  from 
the  '<  Biographia,"  telling  how  he  was  dogged  by  a  government 
spy  for  many  weeks  together,  while  he  was  wandering  among  the 
Quantock  hills,  and  dreaming  of  one  of  the  thousand  works,  of 
which 

**  His  eyes  made  pictures,  when  they  were  shut — " 

but  which  his  hand  never  executed — a  contemplative  and  descrip- 
tive poem,  to  be  called  <•'  The  Brook." 

It  was  on  the  16th  of  September,  1798,  that  Mr.  Coleridge 
set  sail  for  Hamburgh,  from  Yarmouth.  The  details  of  this 
voyage,  of  his  interview  with  Klopstock,  of  his  subsequent  resi- 
dences at  Ratzeburg  and  Gottingen,  were  journalized  in  his  own 
delightful  letters :  it  is  enough  for  us  to  say,  that  he  returned 
to  his  own  country  in  1801,  imbued  with  the  best  spirit  of  Ger- 
man literature ;  his  researches  into  its  philosophy  having  wrought 
for  him  the  somewhat  unforeseen  result  of  a  change  from  the 
Unitarian  to  the  Trinitarian  belief.  That  he  continued  a  stanch 
disciple  of  the  latter  faith  for  the  remainder  of  his  days,  his 
prose  works  and  his  will  afford  ample  evidence. 

On  his  return  to  England,  Mr.  Coleridge  took  up  his  residence- 
at  Keswick,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  his  friends  Wordsworth 
and  Southey ;  there  he  translated  Schiller's  Wallenstein,  which 
was  published  immediately  ;  and  though,  for  its  wonderful  spirit 
and  fidelity, — the  latter  not  a  dry  closeness  of  words,  but  a  len- 
dering  of  thoughts  by  thoughts, — it  was,  on  its  appearing,  felt 
to  be  a  remarkable  work — unique  in  our  language,  and  raising 
the  translator  to  an  equality  with  the  original  author — it  was 
long  and  strangely  neglected,  a  second  edition  not  being  called 
for  till  the  year  1828.     JVow,  could    ve  call  up   "  the  old  man 


SAMUEL   TAYLOR   COLERIDGE.  6i59 

eloquent,"  as  Sir  Walter  Scott  threatened  might  be  done  of 
"  Christabel,"  we  should  be  tempted  (could  only  one  wish  be 
granted)  to  demand  of  him  a  version  of  the  untranslatable 
"Faust,"  secure  that  in  his  hands,  that  wonderful  drama  would 
be  as  admirably  naturalized  into  our  literature  as  the  master- 
woik  of  "  Schiller." 

Shortly  after  his  return  from  Germany,  Mr.  Coleridge  joined 
himself  as  a  literary  and  political  contributor  to  the  "  Morning 
Post,"  stipulating,  in  the  first  instance,  "that  the  paper  should 
be  conducted  on  certain  fixed  principles,  these  being  anti-minis- 
terial, and  with  greater  earnestness  and  zeal,  both  anti-jacobin 
and  anti-gallican."  He  laments  over  the  time  and  talent  ex- 
pended in  this  compulsory  toil,  which  would  have  been  easily 
discharged,  nor  felt  burdensome  by  any  one  more  happily  con- 
stituted, or  self-trained  for  diligent  effort.  And,  in  afterwards 
speaking  of  literature  as  a  profession,  he  would,  like  too  many 
besides  him,  do  reason  and  justice  wrong  by  describing  its 
drudgery  in  gloomier  colours  than  are  used  with  reference  to 
the  uninteresting  labour  necessary  to  every  other  profession. 
But  his  mind  was  always  teeming  and  pregnant,  rather  thac- 
active ;  and  it  was  enchained  in  a  feeble  body,  to  the  wants  of 
which,  perhaps,  self-indulgence  had  given  too  much  mastery. 
Mr.  Coleridge  could  move  others  by  his  inspired  conversation, 
by  a  few  words  crowded  into  the  margin  of  a  book,  or  let  drop 
in  conversation ;  he  could  clear  up  a  dark  point  in  literature, 
or  illustrate  a  principle  in  philosophy,  or  open  an  avenue  for 
his  disciples  to  advance  along  in  the  pursuit  of  truth  ;  but  work 
himself,  save  in  a  fragmentary  manner,  he  seems  to  have  been 
positively  unable.  We  find  him  in  1804,  at  Malta,  appointed 
as  Secretary  to  Sir  Alexander  Ball;  with  a  superior  whom  he 
loved,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  elaborate  and  grave  panegyric  he 
has  left  in  "The  Friend," — and  a  liberal  salary.  But  lie  Avas 
incapable  of  performing  the  duties  of  ofl5ce  even  under  such 
favourable  circumstances ;  and  after  a  ramble  through  Italy  and 
Rome,  he  returned  to  England,  again  to  prove  the  precarious- 
ness  of  the  life  of  those  whose  sole  dependence  is  upon  thoughts 
which  they  cannot,  or  will  not,  take  the  labour  and  patience  to 
work  out  in  a  complete  and  Available  form. 

In  writing  Mr.  Coleridge's  life,  this  feature  of  his  character 
should   be  fully  displayed   and  dwelt  upon  :   even  in  this  brief 


670  LIVES   OF   EMINENT   CHRISTIANS. 

sketch  it  claims  a  distinct  mention,  though  with  reverence -and 
sympathy.  On  his  return  to  England,  we  find  him  lecturing  on 
poetry  and  the  fine  arts,  at  the  Royal  Institution,  in  the  year 
1808 ;  next  sojourning  at  Grasmere,  where  he  planned  and  pub- 
lished "  The  Friend,"  a  periodical  which  was  dropped  at  the 
twenty-eighth  number.  Nor  is  this  Avonderful :  there  was  a 
want  of  variety  in  the  topics  embraced  in  this  miscellany; 
and  the  metaphysical  and  philosophical  subjects  on  which  its 
contriver  delighted  principally  to  dwell,  were  grave  and  involved; 
nor  by  their  manner  of  treatment  likely  to  be  rendered  accept- 
able to  a  public  large  enough  to  support  a  periodical,  had  he 
been  regular  enough  to  have  continued  it.  '<■  The  tendency  of 
his  mind,"  writes  one  who  understood  him  well,  '^to  speculations 
of  the  most  remote  and  subtle  character,  led  him  into  regions 
where  to  follovr  was  no  easy  flight.  To  read  his  philosophical 
discourses  is  a  mental  exercise  which  few  are  now  willing  to  un- 
dertake ;  and  it  is  surpi-ising  that  many  will  describe  him  as 
vague,  intricate,  and  rhapsodical.  For  those,  however,  who 
study  his  writings  as  they  deserve  and  demand,  they  are  highly 
suggestive,  and  full  of  no  common  instruction,  as  excursions  of 
a  mind  which,  in  compass  and  elevation,  had  certainly  no  peer 
among  his  English  contemporaries.  Of  the  peculiar  character 
of  his  philosophy,  as  applied  to  various  branches  of  knowledge, 
whether  in  ethics,  criticism,  history,  or  metaphysical  science,  it 
would  be  impossible  to  aff'ord  even  the  most  imperfect  sketch  in 
this  place.  He  may  be  said  to  have  finally  adopted  an  eclectic 
system  of  his  own,  strongly  tinctured  with  the  academic  doc- 
trines, and  enriched  with  ideas  gathered  from  the  eminent  Ger- 
man teachers  of  philosophy,  to  which  he  added  a  certain  devout 
mysticism  resting  upon  revealed  religion.  In  the  uttering  of 
his  tenets,  circumstance  no  less  than  choice  directed  him  to  the 
dogmatic  method ;  which,  indeed,  to  be  fixed  in  tlie  conviction 
of  certain  positive  and  supreme  truths,  he  must  in  any  case  na- 
turally have  followed.  *  *  *  His  age  was  chiefly  devoted 
to  the  verbal  exposition  of  his  scheme  of  a  Christian  philosophy, 
in  which  his  mind  had  found  a  calm  and  satisfied  refuge:  his 
*  Aids  to  Reflection'  can  but  be  considered  as  prolusions  to  the 
longer  discourse,  the  'Magnum  Opus,'  in  which  he  meant  to  un- 
told his  system  in  all  its  fulness." 

The  above   pafc^sage,   as  containing   in   some  wise   a   general 


SAMUEL   TAYLOR   COLERIDGE.  371 

cliaractcr  of  tlie  prose  works  of  this  extraordinary  man,  has 
been  permitted  to  break  the  fragile  thread  of  our  biographical 
notice.  But  there  is  little  more  to  be  told.  After  living  for  a 
short  time  at  Grasmere,  he  came  again  to  London,  and  finally 
set  up  his  rest  at  Highgate,  in  the  house  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gil- 
man.  With  these  faithful  friends  he  continued  to  sojourn  during 
the  remainder  of  his  life.  In  1816,  (to  complete  the  list  of  his 
works,)  "  Christabel"  was  published;  then  followed  his  '<Lay 
Sermons;"  next,  in  1817,  his  "Biographia  Literaria,"  the  an- 
ecdotical  part  of  which,  in  its  want  of  method  and  connection, 
is  as  eminently  typical  of  the  man  as  its  introduced  digressions 
are  of  the  philosopher.  Besides  these,  w^e  must  mention  a 
volume  of  poems,  entitled  "  Sibylline  Leaves,"  containing  the 
''  Genevieve,"  the  "  Hymn  in  the  Valley  of  Chamouni,"  (that 
noblest  of  modern  sacred  odes,)  and  "  Zapolya,"  a  drama,  imi- 
tating in  its  form  the  peerless  "  Winter's  Tale"  of  Shakspeare, 
which,  though  full  of  beauty,  is  like  the  "  Remorse,"  at  once 
too  delicate  in  its  language  and  imagery,  and  too  devoid  of  one 
master-interest,  to  be  successful  before  our  vitiated  stage  audi- 
ences. It  might  be  the  consciousness  of  his  failure,  as  much  as 
the  conviction  of  the  viciousness  of  the  nascent  school  of  poetry 
and  fiction,  that  embittered  his  critique  upon  Maturin's  "  Ber- 
tram," appended  to  the  "Biographia," — a  piece  of  savage  labour 
thrown  away.  "  Zapolya"  was  never  represented.  The  list  of 
Mr.  Coleridge's  works,  published  in  his  lifetime,  will  we  believe 
be  completed  by  a  small  volume  published  in  1830,  "  On  the 
Constitution  of  the  Church  and  State,"  bearing  on  the  Catholic 
question. 

There  is  no  space  here  for  an  analysis  of  Mr.'  Coleridge's 
poems ;  among  which,  to  increase  the  impossibility  of  such  an 
essay,  there  will  be  foun^  a  singular  variety  and  difference  of 
manner.  In  some  he  is  devout  and  enthusiastic,  soaring  to  the 
most  august  themes,  witli  a  steadiness  of  wing  and  loftiness  of 
harmony  peculiar  to  himself:  in  oiliers,  tender  and  quaint,  dal- 
lying among  dainty  images  and  conceits ;  and  in  his  latter 
verses,  wrapping  up  thoughts  in  a  garb,  enigmatical  and  fan- 
tastic, after  the  manner  of  some  of  the  elder  writers.  In  his 
ballads  again  he  has'  caught  the  true  spirit  of  the  superna- 
tural beyond  all  his  compeers ;  his  mind  broods  over  the  mys- 
terious tale  he  is  about  to  unfold,  and  his  words  fall   from  him 


*7:2  LIVES   OF   EMINENT  CHRISTIANS. 

unconsciously,  each  verse  as  it  were  intimating  a  portent.  In 
all  he  shows  himself  to  be  perhaps  the  greatest  modern  master 
of  versification :  his  poetry  has  a  music  deeper  than  that  of 
chime  and  cadence,  the  thoughts  and  images,  not  merely  the 
words  and  the  measures,  succeed  each  other  in  a  rare  harmony, 
besides  being  clothed  in  language  of  a  select  and  borrowed 
richness. 

For  the  last  many  years  of  his  life,  Mr.  Coleridge  lived  plea- 
santly among  his  friends,  at  one  time  deriving  a  small  pension 
from  the  royal  bounty, — dreaming  of  a  thousand  mighty  works 
to  be  achieved,  committing  the  seeds  of  these,  in  the  shape  of 
notes  and  criticisms,  to  the  fly-leaves  and  margins  of  such  books 
as  fell  in  his  way ;  and  haranguing  with  a  magical  eloquence  to 
those  who  drew  round  him  to  "  love  and  learn."  He  established, 
it  has  been  happily  said,  in  excuse  for  the  literary  unproductive- 
ness of  his  later  years,  a  Noy^mal  school  of  philosophy  for  those 
who  should  in  turn  disseminate  his  well-beloved  doctrines  to  a 
wider  circle  of  pupils.  Few,  even  among  the  uninitiated,  left 
his  presence  without  being  a  thought  the  richer ;  few  books 
passed  from  under  his'  hands  without  being  graced  by  some 
golden  sentence  of  illustration  or  criticism.  The  latter  are  daily 
coming  to  light ;  such  as  have  been  given  to  the  world  are  pre- 
cious evidences  of  the  largeness  of  his  mind,  of  the  extent  of  his 
accomplishments,  and  the  keenness  of  his  perception.  As  a 
master  and  teacherwhose  mind,  dwelling  apart  from  busy  life, 
was  devoted  to  the  studyand  oral  difiusiori  of  what  was  lofty, 
and  noble,  and  worthy,  we  ought  to  love  liis  memory — though 
we  may  not  forget  that  there  is  warning  as  well  as  authority 
associated  with  his  name  ! 


THB  RN1>. 


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